I Won't Last a Day Without You
by Scarabsi
Summary: When several soldiers are just starting to notice each other properly, several are taken away. Now, they must find a way to escape. [multiple shonenai couples][Still 'Writer's Block'ed]
1. Day after day

Hello. I'm back from the dead and am writing another novice Fire Emblem story. XD;;; This time I'll be doing a different pairing... unless I change and end up doing lots of pairings... This might end up as a kind of sequel to my last story, A Mercenary's Desire. But I don't think you have to read that to figure out what's going on here. And it happens somewhere after Chapter 26, because there are characters here that appeared after Chapter 18. I'm missing a few characters 'cause I don't have them and don't know when they appear. Renault, for example, as I've only seen him in Chapter 18x and never got him.

Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is owned by Nintendo (or at least I think it is.) I do not own it. If I did, it would be nowhere near as popular, and Erk's nose probably would have come out off center.

Erk: ...and _my_ nose is off center because...?

Scarabsi: Because you're so adorable, charming, handsome, and a fan girl magnet, and I'm such a bad artist. I still think Guy is the cutest, though. Sword-using dorks are attracted to other sword-using dorks, I guess.

Guy: I- I'm a dork?

Scarabsi: (shrugs) That's what everyone says.

Warnings: This story contains multiple shonen-ai (slash, homo, gay, whatever you want to call them) pairings. I'm sorry if you like shoujo-ai too, though; I'm not very good a writing those, so they're not in here. (Sighs at her own patheticness, which is not a word.) It also contains some straight couples, so if you're afraid of _those_ (yes, I know someone who claims to be), you might not want to read this.

Credit: I think I'll dedicate this story to Amethyst Bubble; I mainly wrote this so that she'd write more chapters for her wonderful new story, The Troubles of Matchmaking (you should read it, if you haven't already). So... yeah... (sweatdrop)

Guy: whacks me with blunt end of his sword Shut up and get the story going already!

Scarabsi: (cries) Okay. (Swords hurt, whether it's the sharp end or the blunt end that gets you.)

---------------------------------------

Chapter One

---------------------------------------

Serra walked sleepily out of her room. She was a little too tired to do her usual squeals; the discovery of the fact that Raven and Lucius were an item kept her late up last night, cooing about how cute they actually looked together, now that she thought about it. She also thought about who else could be a couple; obviously, life as the healer of the party wasn't all that fun, because she had recently been craving more romance to keep her mind from straying to her own feelings.

"Hmm... I wonder if I can find another excuse to make Priscilla call Erk to her again..." The pink-haired cleric giggled at remembrance of the last time she had drawn Erk to the troubadour. She herself had developed feelings for the young Etruian mage, but she would rather see him happy than have him for herself, seeing as Erk found her so... annoying.

She walked over to Priscilla's room and knocked rather loudly. A few moments later, the red-haired beauty appeared at the door, with her usual calm expression. Immediately, Serra put on her big smile, all traces of weariness erased from her face. "Good morning, Priscilla! Is there anything I can help you with today?"

Priscilla smiled patiently, and shook her head. "Not today, Serra. I'm a little tired... I need someone who can help me feel better¡K about the shock of milord brother, you see..."

Serra's smile faltered for a second, out of pity for the other girl. It wasn't that Priscilla was homophobic, because nobody in the group was, but because Priscilla herself had hoped that Raven would carry out his promise to marry her. "Sh- shall I call Erk in, Priscilla?"

Priscilla nodded. "Yes... perhaps that should help." A second after Serra turned to head to Erk's room, though, Priscilla added, "You stuttered, Serra. Is something the matter?"

Serra jumped slightly at the comment, shaken that her mask had slipped for a moment. "Um... no! Nothing's the matter! You must have imagined it, Lady Priscilla!" Then, flashing her trademark smile, dashed toward Erk's room. But the red-haired troubadour remained at the door of the room, still slightly confused at Serra's abnormal behavior. "She never uses any high-ranking titles for anybody but herself... something's very wrong."

---------------------------------------

Serra reached Erk's room and knocked even more loudly than she had on Priscilla's door. She could hear a soft grumbling as the source of her heart opened the door, purple hair slightly rumpled and annoyance written all over his face. "What is it, Serra?" He grumbled.

"It's Priscilla, Erk!" Serra exclaimed cheerfully as if beautiful healers always wanted something to do with Erk. "She wants you in her room! Something about making her feel better about her brother..."

Almost instantly, the charming face of the young mage turned as red as his cloak. "M-me...?" As he almost never stuttered, this took both Serra and himself by surprise. "W-why would she want m-m-me...?"

"Oh, you silly Erk!" Serra giggled. "Because she _likes_ you, of course! Why else would she want you?" She gladly, er, _forgot_ to mention that she had only suggested Erk and that Priscilla really hadn't really specified whether she cared who came to comfort her.

Erk didn't believe anything Serra had said in her last statement, but he shuffled past her anyway and headed toward Priscilla's room, muttering something incoherent. Serra giggled again, for the third time that morning, and closed the door for him. Then she turned and skipped toward the dining room for breakfast.

---------------------------------------

Lucius looked up from his breakfast when Serra arrived. He smiled a greeting to her, which she returned, and continued eating. Nobody had started a conversation with him today, and it had started creeping on the edge of his patience. The most he had gotten was Lyn, saying "Good morning, Lucius!" and Hector, asking him if he had seen Lyn. Even Serra, who was usually loud and annoying, was staying quiet around him. He would roll his eyes at anyone who couldn't guess why.

Lucius assumed that since last night, when Raven had walked into the castle with him in his arms, everyone was trying to think of something to say and couldn't quite do it. He sighed and aimed his fork toward another quail egg, but another fork caught the prize. When Lucius looked up, Raven filled his vision, eating the egg. The mercenary smiled and swallowed the egg. "Good morning, Lucius."

"Hello, Lord Raymond. I'm glad you're here; it's been a graveyard around me today." Lucius reached for another quail egg, only to have it stolen by Raven again. "Stop stealing my eggs!"

"I'm hungry," was the reply, as Raven finished the second egg. "And don't address me as 'Lord Raymond' anymore. It's too formal." He grabbed a plate from a stack at the front of the dining table and helped himself to his own food. Lucius took two quail eggs from Raven's plate and quickly ate them, earning a funny look from the redhead. "Lucius, you still act as if you're a child; must I remind you again that you are older than me?"

"No, but I'd like to know if you want to share this grape juice with me," the blonde answered. "I don't think I can finish it myself."

Raven rolled his eyes, well aware of the fact that the glass was very small and that Lucius was only looking for an excuse to share something with him. "Alright, I'll share it with you," he said. He sipped all the contents of the glass and kissed the blonde bishop.

After the juice had disappeared down both their throats, Raven broke the small moment with a smug look. "Like it shared that way?"

Lucius nodded and filled another glass. "May you do that again, Lord Raymond?"

Raven took the glass. "Yes... and don't call me Lord Raymond."

From his seat at the table, Legault watched the two with masked jealousy. He had felt alone for a long time; since he had left Black Fang, he decided. He was surrounded by a group of strangers, and he had missed the company of the real Black Fang; just him, Brendan, Jan, and the two brats. Most of the group had probably died by now; he had doubts that Brendan could stay alive around that insane Sonia for long.

"Uncle Legault!"

Legault nearly yelled at the sudden cry and whipped around, facing a very wide-eyed Nino, grinning ear to ear as was her nature. "Nino! Quiet down, I'll go deaf with you around." He paused, realizing that Nino had called him 'uncle'. "Why are you calling me 'uncle'?"

Nino shrugged. "You feel like an uncle to me. You're like Uncle Jan!"

Legault shuddered at the thought of being compared with the useless brigand. "R-r-really..."

The young mage nodded, smile still on her face. "Yep! I was wondering why you seem all alone. Doesn't anybody in this blasted army of mercenaries find you attractive?" She paused. "Other than me, of course...?"

Legault blinked at the oddity of the question. "Find... me... attractive?" He repeated slowly, to make sure he heard right. "Well, no... I think not... not with this scar." He rubbed his scarred eye as he said this, cursing the social repellant that had come with it. Nino, however, looked hurt.

"But Uncle Legault! That scar makes you look nicer! You're not unique without that scar! Isn't that what people in this crazy place look for?"

Legault shook his head. "Maybe so, but I don't think scars cut it. I mean, look at Vaida..." he looked over at the mentioned wyvern lord, and furrowed his brow at the ugliness of her scar. Although, that haircut needs to go too... "I mean, I normally find wyvern riders _attractive_, but... she's really an exception¡K"

Nino's eyes lit up. "Wyvern riders, huh..."

Legault raised an eyebrow. "Don't even think about it, Nino. I don't care if you somehow manage to remove Vaida's ugly scar, I won't- "

Nino smiled innocently at him. "Uncle Legault, do you fancy men? I heard you talking to Matthew, and I don't think it's very ordinary for a straight man to ask another man if they like him."

Legault turned red from embarrassment. "You... heard us talking...?" The beginning of that conversation was supposed to be a secret! Flux Nino for her unnatural ability to eavesdrop on a pair of bloody _thieves_...

"Mmmm... If you do fancy men, that would make things a little harder, would it?" Nino observed. "I mean... you can't know if a man is homo or straight... don't they usually end up marrying some other lady, and leaving someone with a broken heart, right? That happens with the _women_..."

Legault was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. "Uh... well, look, Nino, I... I really need to go now, so..." His eyes wandered around for an excuse to get away from the cheerful mage. "So... why don't you... go bother Jaffar?" He sprung, struck by inspiration. "Yes. Why don't you go talk to Jaffar, Nino? I'm sure you could find someone for him instead...?"

Nino whimpered from the idea of leaving Uncle Legault in the pits of loneliness, but when she laid her eyes on Jaffar, she completely forgot about Legault. "Jaffar! Wait for me!"

The scar-eyed thief sighed in relief when he was sure Nino was gone for good, and left the table. However, as soon as he left the dining room and got into one of the many halls of the castle, he walked head-on into a metal wall. After he finished seeing stars, he cleared his vision and slowly made out a lot of armor and a lot of green and white.

"Are you alright?" Heath asked, peering over at the fallen thief with concern running over his completely unmasked face.

Legault grumbled, moaned, and put his hand to his head. "Ow... my head... you should take off that heavy armor indoors. You know, in case you walk into anybody else..."

Heath blinked, looking down at his armor. "I have to be ready, in case Bern's soldiers come. I can be quick to my feet, or rather, quick to Hyperion, to hold up a good fight." He peered closer to the light-purple hair, guiltily noting how uniquely beautiful that scar made Legault's face look. "Uh... can you recognize me?"

Legault blinked a few more times, information processing to his brain. The green and white wall had mentioned something about Bern's soldiers, and Hyperion, who was... he racked his mussed up mind. Wasn't Hyperion the name of Heath's wyvern? _Come to think of it, Heath's hair is the same color as this wall..._

Coming to a slow realization, Legault's eyes snapped wide open and stared at the long-haired wyvern rider. His heart pounded faster and, with dread, he remembered the sentence he had absent-mindedly muttered to the wide-eyed and carefully listening mage.

"..._I mean, I normally find wyvern riders **attractive**, but..._"

Legault quickly got to his feet and nearly swore at the way his vision turned black for a second. He stole a glance at Heath, who had a confused expression, and ran up the stairs to his room like Nergal was after him. _I am not thinking straight. I hit my head too hard on that blasted armor. That's it. That has to be it._

He locked the door and spent a long bit of the afternoon laughing at how he wasn't thinking _straight_... ha ha ha...

---------------------------------------

Gods! That chapter was only _four_ pages long... and even though it was in size eight font, it was double-spaced at the beginning of each paragraph when I typed the don't-upload version. sob Good thing this is a chapter story and not a one-shot, or this would be one hell of a short story.

Later pairings: L/H, M/G, possibly E/S, most likely H/L, obviously Raven/Lucius...

I wrote the first four pairings in the first-letter-of-name format in case you didn't want to find out what the later pairings were, because you wouldn't accidentally read it and get a good idea what the couple is. You kind of have to work at what the letter stands for (S/M stories had me strangled between 'is it Sesshoumaru and Miroku or Sango and Miroku?')

Now, why am I ranting about this? I don't know. shrugs I'll probably work on the next chapter after Amethyst Bubble posts her second chapter, but sometimes I have to eat my words when I receive all those sweet reviews. (melts into a pile of putty reading the reviews for 'A Mercenary's Desire') You people were so wonderful... (cries)

Please review, because it would make me happy. Again, corrections are accepted (was Vaida _there_ in Chapter 26 anyway? Is Heath's wyvern named Hyperion?)

Thank you!


	2. I must face a world of strangers

(sniff, sniff) I'm such a weakling. (sniff, sniff) Five sweet, wonderful reviews and I'm writing the next chapter already. Sorry; I meant it _is_ a sequel (whacks herself for being so, well, _dorky_). Thanks for the correction, Raiknii. And RianneHime, you're right, I have noticed that Guy stutters a LOT around Matthew. (smiles to everyone else) I might add a Kent/Sain pairing. I'm not sure I'm up to it, though. And the thought that Amethyst Bubble is working on her next chapter is keeping me writing, too. Thank you all! (drowns herself in tears of happiness)  
  
(sees R Amythest's review) Ch-chapter 29? Chapter 31? (sobs) I haven't gotten near that far yet! (cries) No wonder I know next to nothing about him... But thanks for that information anyway. (smiles)  
  
Guy: There you go again, with that d-d-_dork_ joke.  
  
Me: (blinks) Hello? What are you doing here? (hugs him)  
  
Guy: (yells and jumps back into my Game Boy)  
  
Me: (grins) That always gets them back into the Game Boy. Too bad it doesn't work on Serra.  
  
Guy: (head pops out of GB) I do not stutter more around Matthew!  
  
Matthew: (appears next to Guy's head) Hello, Guy!  
  
Guy: (look of shock) Wh-why h-h-hello, M-m-m-matthew...! I-it's v-very n- nice t-to s-s-see y-y-y-...  
  
Me: (rolls eyes) Right.  
  
**The warning was written on the first chapter. If you need to read another warning, go back to Chapter I because I'm too lazy to write it in all the chapters.** (whacks herself for being lazy)  
  
And I don't own Fire Emblem.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Two  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Nino was laughing happily as she ran up to Jaffar. Who knew? Wyvern riders, indeed. Her Uncle Legault sure had odd tastes. She decided that Jaffar was a good person to let this in on. After all, Jaffar listened and didn't tell; he'd most likely forget about it, knowing him. An assassin like Jaffar usually remembered things more important than a young girl's matchmaking quest. As she approached him, she waved casually. "Hey, Jaffar! I want to talk to you!"  
  
The quiet assassin turned his head toward the sound, recognizing the young girl's voice. As usual, he didn't answer, just gave a nod at her to show that he had heard. Nino, who was used to this by now, continued to run next to him and try to start the conversation.  
  
"Say, Jaffar. I wanted to know what you think of Raven and Lucius. You know, about them being together?" She looked into his face, and as expected, didn't receive a verbal answer from the constantly sealed mouth. She crossed her arms, bored with just swinging them around and continued as if he had answered. "Well, I actually think it's rather cute... And you know what I think? I think other people are starting to realize their own feelings, too. You can see the way Erk is always glancing off in some direction; no doubt to Priscilla, and Serra's been slipping her act lately. Too bad I can't figure out who she has eyes for; she's really good at masking. And you know what?" She leaned closer to Jaffar, so that he could hear her whisper. "I kind of suspect Hector of liking Lyn; he doesn't really argue with anybody else quite as much, does he?"  
  
Jaffar wasn't really paying attention to what she was saying. After all, he usually remembered things more important than a young girl's matchmaking quest. But his mind wasn't occupied with another assassination attempt; he was only noticing just how close Nino's face was from his own, and it made him feel a little more light-headed than he thought safe. He tried to keep all thoughts of Nino out of his head and blamed it on the curse that Nino was mentioning at the moment.  
  
"And you know what else, Jaffar?" Nino continued, not really caring that he was obviously not listening. "I know a little secret from Uncle Legault."  
  
This somewhat caught the assassin's attention, as he was so desperate for something to get his mind off those amazingly adorable sky-bright eyes. "...... Hurricane?"  
  
Nino grinned, happy that Jaffar was actually listening to her now. "Yeah! Well, he accidentally let slip this morning that he found wyvern riders attractive." Nino was giggling hysterically, and Jaffar was blinking, blank look on his face replacing his usually serious expression. Jaffar couldn't believe that the Hurricane could find anybody attractive. But, then again, if he told Hurricane about Nino...  
  
Jaffar made a mental note to hit himself later. He had no emotional interest in Nino; it was just some hallucination that was spreading throughout the castle... right?  
  
Nino let out a breath. "Well, I'm glad I got that out of my system. I can't keep it bottled inside me forever." She grabbed Jaffar's arm and stared into his eyes, innocence dripping off her smile. "Promise me you won't tell _anybody_, okay? Uncle Legault would hunt me down if he found out I had told someone. Okay? Promise?"  
  
Jaffar was currently listening to his own pulse quicken, throbbing at the spot Nino was touching. He dizzily nodded an agreement, making the young mage laugh and run off to who-knows-where. Though the Angel of Death had no idea whether he was glad of the absence of her touch or mourning it.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Legault had finally calmed himself down and was, at the moment, located in the castle library, looking for something to help him forget what had happened that morning. Something else, however, did the job (somewhat).  
  
"I challenge you again! There's no way I'll lose this time; I've been taking lessons from Karol!"  
  
"Karol? The one who obsesses over that fool blade of his? You'd never best me with lessons from that crackpot."  
  
Legault snuck toward the voices, spying through a gap in a bookshelf. He could make out the images of Matthew and Guy, doing another one of those challenges over that oily oath paper. Legault could just choke on the stupidity of it. Someone should just do that poor swordmaster a favor and burn the stupid thing. After all, the entire group knew that Guy was property of the mischievous thief... though that was probably why Guy wanted the oath paper. Nobody really knew why Guy was concerned with his debts; Matthew sure was taking his time with issuing his demands.  
  
"You- you spout trash talk like that all the time, than attack me in my sleep! Why can't you ever face me and fight like a real man?"  
  
A sigh, some dusting imaginary lint off a dark red cape, before the impatient reply: "We went through this last time, and the time before last time; it's a thief's duty to be... what do you call it? Cowardice! Thieves aren't proud men like you myrmidons, they're runners!"  
  
Legault nodded in agreement. This was the code of thieves; hit and run. Or in some cases, take and run. Guy was not quite as agreeing as the scarred thief, though.  
  
"Grr... I don't care! It's never a fair fight!" His fists were clenched in frustration. Why doesn't this stubborn... coward ever face him in daylight? Other than when they're busy saving each other's butts out on the battlefield?  
  
Matthew strode powerfully out of the library and chuckled. "Remember, _you_ attacked me in my sleep every night after _I_." He then strode out of the library, most likely looking for a place to escape the swordmaster. Guy was obviously taking Matthew's last statement as a personal insult, as his face swelled in anger and embarrassment. He muttered something about stupid thieves and marched off the other direction.  
  
Legault stayed still for a few more seconds, blinking, then stepped to another section of the library, acting as if he hadn't heard a single word of the conversation. But by now he had forgotten why he was in the library at all, so he just strode around the aisles, inspecting the volumes with more questionable titles.  
  
After spending half an hour in the library, Legault looked up from _Counterfeit Chests of Lycia and How to Find Them_ and spotted a flash of green. He closed the book and shoved it back in the place in the shelf the thought it belonged and headed toward the deserter.  
  
Legault moved soundlessly toward the rider and stood directly behind him. "Hello, Heath."  
  
Said man jumped slightly and whipped around, relaxing about three hairs when he saw whom it was.  
  
"I someone chasing you or something?" Legault asked, curious to know why Heath was so jumpy.  
  
Heath blinked, though sweat was forming on his forehead. "Me?" He asked, though it was an odd question to ask, as he was the only other person in range of sight. Legault raised an eyebrow at his jumpiness and desperate act of playing dumb.  
  
"Yes, you. You _are_ going to tire yourself out staying on guard all the time." He remembered what Heath had said that morning about being ready to go in case Bern's soldiers came.  
  
Heath was looking at Legault again. This morning he had been easy; a dizzy enemy didn't fare as an intimidating opponent. He angered himself for giving away information to someone he didn't know very well, but took it that the poor thief hadn't remembered the information too well, as he was still at questioning him. That didn't mean he would take any chances. Though, he admitted, most of Bern's spies weren't quite as good-looking...  
  
"You aren't a spy, are you? Or an enemy?" Heath asked, hoping against hope that Legault would slip a position. He wasn't exactly expecting the answer he received.  
  
"Well, I am from Black Fang, but- "  
  
The reaction was immediate. Heath's eyes widened, staring at Legault, and started looking for means of escape. Legault grabbed his wrist to stop him from going anywhere. "Relax, I'm not after you. I'm not with Black Fang anymore."  
  
The wyvern rider didn't sound convinced. "How am I supposed to know whether you're telling the truth or not?"  
  
Legault had opened his mouth to reply, but something caught his eye. It was Sain, tearing through the library, closely followed by a rather angry looking Kent.  
  
"You get back here and apologize to lady Rebecca... if you may!" Kent called impatiently.  
  
"I said I'm sorry, you don't have to make any attempts upon my life!" Sain called back, tearing through the desks. Two of the desks bumped into one of the shorter bookshelves, which toppled over. Two pairs of eyes widened in shock as the bookshelf toppled over, crashing onto the unknowing Heath and Sain.  
  
Or so it would have, if the other two hadn't moved fast enough.  
  
Legault dove underneath the shelf and grabbed Heath out of the shelf's way; at the same time, Kent grabbed Sain out in a much closer save, as the cavalier wasn't as fast as the thief. All four of them stood heavily breathing for several minutes, before Sain gave Kent a frightened hug.  
  
"Kent! You... you saved me..."  
  
The serious cavalier huffed and looked away. "I only saved you so I could kill you myself later." Kent dumped Sain off, dusted himself for a long time, and walked away, dragging Sain with him by the collar.  
  
Legault was just lost in his own realm. _That... womanizer! If they hadn't toppled over that shelf, this would have been avoided...  
_  
Heath, meanwhile, was looking up at this rescuer with a different feeling. "You... you..."  
  
The two small words broke Legault out of his trance, as he looked down at the wyvern rider. _He looks so helpless..._ "... Saved you, I know."  
  
Heath now seemed very embarrassed. "Well... sorry about before. I trust you now."  
  
Legault raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Well, that's good. Don't scream the next time you see me, alright?"  
  
The wyvern rider nodded, and Legault put him down. Heath quickly ran away for unknown reasons, but Legault stood around the library for several minutes, reflecting on the last few minutes before taking his leave in the other exit.

---------------------------------------  
  
Nino watched from the top of a very high, very sturdy bookshelf. She had seen the whole thing, right from the part when Legault had approached Heath. She was smiling.  
  
"Uncle Legault... you like _Heath_, don't you?"  
  
The young mage giggled and jumped off the shelf, running to an exit. She's going to be doing a lot of planning tonight.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Kent, in the meantime, was giving Sain another one of those lectures that always came after a good flirting.  
  
"Now, Sain, we all know you like women, but you have to know when your limit is. You have to know when you're going to set everyone off, and you don't want to wait until it's too late until you stop."  
  
Sain wasn't listening, of course. He was playing with a little dandelion that was growing next to his right leg, as they were sitting in one of the many castle training fields. There were a lot of dandelions around, and Sain was wondering if there were enough of them to make a bouquet for his next victim- uh, I mean, for the next time he starts a flirty conversation with somebody. He picked the dandelion and started picking off the petals.  
  
"They like me... they like me not... they like me..."  
  
Kent had stopped his speech when he realized that Sain wasn't listening. "Sain! Are you listening?" It was a rhetorical question, of course, because any idiot could see that the playboy cavalier wasn't paying the least attention. Kent sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sain had been right, with all his worrying, he was going to grow old well before his time. But if the stubborn goat would give him less to worry about, he wouldn't have to worry...  
  
"Sain, what are you doing?"  
  
Sain jumped, dropping the flower, and looked into Kent's face. "Oh, you stopped the lecture. Sorry, I didn't notice..."  
  
Kent picked up the flower and examined it. "Sain, what were you doing? I believed you stopped playing with dandelions a while back."  
  
Sain laughed uneasily. "Well, you see, I was just... playing the little love game, you know..."  
  
Kent raised an eyebrow. "The little love game? What is that?"  
  
Sain stared at him, shocked. "You mean to tell me you don't know? Everyone knows that game." He picked another dandelion and held it up for Kent to see. "See? You pick a flower and pick the petals off one by one, like this." He picked a petal off. "They like me..." he picked the second petal off. "They don't like me..."  
  
Kent closed his eyes, frustrated. "And who's 'they'? The women? I'll have you know that Louise is married, so you can't go after her, let alone all of them..."  
  
Sain smiled. This smile was different than all his other smiles; it was a sad smile. "Who said anything about women? I can act just as well as Serra, and it seems even you were tricked." He dropped the dandelion and rested his hands on the grass. "I'll tell you, because you're my friend and I can trust you... but I only chased after women to lead others away from the truth. The fact is... I don't even like women."  
  
Kent sat there in the grass, dumbfounded. Then he laughed and slapped Sain on the back. "Oh, that was a good one, Sain. Truly the actor, you are... you nearly got me for a moment there." His forced laughter died away when Sain's smile didn't change its emotion. Sain had closed his eyes, the sad, uncharacteristic smile still on his face.  
  
"No, Kent... I wasn't joking..."  
  
Sain's eyes opened halfway. "And you know, I already fancy someone..."  
  
Kent still couldn't believe it, but he couldn't bring himself to laugh again, either. So, feeling like he was going to regret it, asked the question that was on his mind: "...Who...?"  
  
Sain looked into his eyes. He caressed Kent's soft hand, leaned forward and whispered into the other man's ear. "... Care to guess...?"  
  
And Kent knew.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
There! Chapter Two!  
  
There are always thing I want to say, but I never remember to say them. (sighs)  
  
Kent and Sain were really hard to put together, so they're the first couple together (other than Raven and Lucius).  
  
I'm putting more Nino/Jaffar, more Legault/Heath (that pair is fun to write!), and more Erk. I might add more Hector/Lyn, but that's kind of more of a background pairing. For Matthew/Guy fans, don't worry; I'm putting them in soon! There's no way I'm leaving my favorite couple out! (laughs uneasily)  
  
Also, something I thought was kind of funny: I had already written up to the part when Legault was eavesdropping on Matthew and Guy when I read Amethyst Bubble's second chapter. It was so funny how similar the beginnings were! And yes, it was completely coincidental. That was the main reason why it was so funny. Again, if you haven't read 'The Troubles of Matchmaking' by Amethyst Bubble, go read it now!  
  
And as was last time, reviews would be appreciated, corrections and flames are accepted, and another chapter in 'The Troubles of Matchmaking' would be appreciated! Thank you!


	3. And I don't belong

Oh... this is hard, but it's starting to get fun! Thank you Amethyst Bubble, extremely, for updating! And thank you RianneHime, for telling me about Renault and for your new wonderful story!  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
And thank you EVERYONE for reviewing! I haven't read everyone's stories yet... (smiles broadly) I need to save stories so I have something to read once in a while. Fire Emblem shonen-ai is almost non-existent... (cries) But there are non-slash stories that are sweet too, like... Serra/Erk! (Got to love that pairing.) I'm sorry I'm not putting in Hector/Eliwood... there are some pairings that are too hard for me... and I guess that's one of them. (sad sigh) Plus, my friends and I have declared that Hector either belongs to Lyn or he belongs to Florina. So, I'm sincerely sorry to say I'm too pathetic to put Hector/Eliwood in here, and I'm really, really sorry I took so long to update.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Oh, and just a warning, so I don't get complaints, this chapter does jump a lot, so... One minute, it'll be Lucius's point of view, the next it's Serra's point of view, than it's Guy's point of view, than it's Heath's point of view... you get the idea. And, uh... this chapter doesn't have as much slash as I hoped it would have... it's mostly Serra/Erk (which most of you probably don't support anyway...) and has Raven/Lucius in the beginning.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
**Once again, the authoress of this story is too lazy to copy the warning from Chapter One... not that it matters anymore, because if you're reading Chapter Three it's pretty likely you don't mind these couples... right? Heck... I think I'll just stop writing these warning things.  
**  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
If I owned Fire Emblem, Guy would be a lord and Matthew would be engaged to him. And if I owned Fire Emblem, there would be a scene in Chapter Sixteen in which Lucius and Raven give each other a 'good luck' kiss. If you don't understand by now that I don't own Fire Emblem, you are either officially idiotic or don't know Fire Emblem that well.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Three  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
The next morning, Nino ran hurriedly out of her room and downstairs toward the dining room. She had stayed up too late making plans on how to put Uncle Legault and Uncle Heath together, and ended up sleeping in. Jaffar would have her head on his breakfast plate if he found out that she hadn't slept properly. She had also taken to calling the wyvern rider 'Uncle Heath' in her head, because she was already picturing the wonderful wedding ceremony.  
  
She slid down the railing of the last stairway and ran to her seat at the breakfast table. She picked up her bread and goat's milk and began eating, but halfway through the milk she noticed four seats empty. If her memory hadn't failed her, that was Lucius's seat, Raven's seat, Sain's seat, and Kent's seat. It wasn't surprising that Sain would sleep in- his personality told Nino and anyone who cared to notice that he would have slept in sooner or later- but Lucius and Kent were too big on punctuality, and it worried Nino that they were late.  
  
She poked Jaffar's shoulder. "Jaffar, where are Lucius, Raven, and Kent? They would have shown up by now."  
  
Jaffar shook his head. "I wouldn't know."  
  
Nino hung her head. "Oh, sorry... I just needed to ask. They usually would be here by now. I... I..."  
  
_"I love you, Jaffar..."_ Jaffar fantasized. Underneath the table, he pinched himself.  
  
"I... I..." Nino sighed. "I worry too much. After all, it's not my business why they're late... maybe Kent is trying to wake up Sain and Lucius is brushing his hair."  
  
She caught a glance of slight disappointment from Jaffar's expression and was about to ask what it was about, when all four of the missing men entered the room, all with uncombed hair (even Lucius) and ruffled clothing. Nino ran up to Kent. "Kent, why are you late to breakfast? And if you have any idea, do you know why the other three are late?"  
  
Kent's slightly clouded mind registered the question, and he blushed a deeper shade of red than his armor, which he had forgotten to put on. Sain heard the question as well, and leant down to Nino. "Sorry for worrying you- we were... occupied with something." He smiled at Kent. "Wasn't it fun, though, Kent?" The more serious cavalier blushed even deeper and nodded, a guilty shadow of a smile on his lips.  
  
Nino didn't understand what Sain did that could have convinced Kent to be late for anything, so she skipped back to her seat. "Now, how will I get Uncle Legault and Uncle Heath together...?"  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Heath sneezed.  
  
"Bless you, Heath," Priscilla said. "Are you well?"  
  
Heath nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. There's no need for you to heal me."  
  
Priscilla nodded and got back to her breakfast. Erk, who was sitting on the other side of her, glanced over at Heath, an odd expression on his features. His expression became one of annoyance when someone tugged on his sleeve.  
  
"Erk! Are you doing anything beside reading this afternoon?" Serra asked, smiling over-cheerfully. Erk rubbed his forehead, trying to ease his headache.  
  
"No, Serra, I do not. What is this about?"  
  
Mentioned cleric smiled even wider. "Lady Priscilla wanted me to ask. She didn't say why, though..." She pouted at the thought of being left out of a secret. "She hasn't asked you to go out on a stroll with her yet, has she? She should, I just know she wants to..."  
  
Erk slapped Serra on the shoulder. "Please hush up..." As expected, his face had lit up bright red at the mention of Priscilla.  
  
"Oh, but you know you want her to!" Serra whined, rubbing her sore shoulder. That mage was stronger than he thought he was. "She's pretty, she's gentle, she's quiet..." Her voice shrunk as Serra listed off Priscilla's virtues. "... She's a _real_ healer... unlike me..."  
  
Erk looked over at Serra, confused and feeling slightly guilty. "What are you talking about?"  
  
Serra answered the question, forgetting whom she was talking to. "I'm ugly, violent, loudmouthed, annoying, I can't heal without causing a headache with my chatter..." Her finger was drawing circles in the tablecloth without her knowledge. "... The list goes on... I can hear people say these things..."  
  
"Serra...? What are you... " Erk began, but Serra started her next sentence before he could continue.  
  
"Nobody cares, nobody understands, nobody ever stops to appreciate my efforts, nobody... nobody..." She raised her head slightly, giving Erk a good view of her expression: sadness. "... Nobody loves me..."  
  
Erk felt bad. All of a sudden, his stomach had butterflies, his arms tickled, his legs had lost feeling, and his heart went crazy. He felt _horrible_. "Serra, I'm sorry..."  
  
"No, you're not!" Serra shouted so loudly, everyone at the table turned to look at them. "You were the first to say I was ugly, violent, loudmouthed, and annoying! You were the first to complain of headaches! If anything," she glared at him. "If anything, you hate me! Just... just go talk to Priscilla!" She slapped him very hard on the face and ran out of the room.  
  
Erk sat, thunderstruck, and almost didn't notice Priscilla cleaning up his bruise. He turned to her, eyes still full of hurt. "P-Priscilla..."  
  
Priscilla looked down. "Serra... her mask has been slipping lately. She can't seem to take insults as well as she used to, and... I feel I am to blame..." She glanced at Erk. "... Please apologize sincerely to her."  
  
"But she didn't listen last time; what makes you believe she will the second time?"  
  
"Serra..." Priscilla continued. "You might not have realized it, but she's been playing matchmaker for the last couple weeks. She..." Priscilla stared into Erk's eyes. "She only wanted you to be happy. By the slipups she's made these days, I think she actually likes you. She only set you up with me because- "  
  
"-Because she felt that she was too annoying, that I hated her, and that I would be happier with you," Erk realized. A head of red hair bobbed up and down in a 'yes'. Erk stood up in his chair, looking at the place Serra had disappeared off to. "Oh, flux." He ran out of the dining room, yelling "Serra!" as he went, but the pink-haired healer never gave a reply.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Lucius had heard the whole argument, as most of the party had, and felt he could have done something about it. He was running his fingers through his soft, blond hair, and looking over at that side of the table. He started getting up, but felt a hand on his wrist. It was Raven.  
  
"... ... Do not bother trying to solve the situation. You will only get yourself into trouble." He suggested this more out of habit than real concern, as his tone of voice indicated that he didn't expect Lucius to listen to him anyway. Lucius smiled his kind, gentle smile. He then leaned over and gave Raven a light kiss on the forehead.  
  
"I won't be long- I promise."  
  
After those six words, Lucius gave a nod and ran out the dining room, where he had seen Serra and Erk run. Raven sat in his seat, and stared at the doorway that Lucius had disappeared through, only those last words echoing in his mind.  
  
_"I won't be long- I promise."  
  
"I promise."  
  
"I promise..."  
_  
---------------------------------------  
  
As Serra ran, she occasionally glanced back, to make sure that she wasn't being pursued. She made it outside, to one of the training grounds, and collapsed in exhaustion. That was it; her world was over. She had just messed up everything that mattered in her life, and there was no way that Erk was going to forgive her for having that yelling fit. Sure, she had always yelled before, but she had never yelled at anyone with sincere anger, and certainly never frustration. She sat in the grass, for St. Elimine knows how long, and was so absorbed in her mournful thoughts that she didn't hear the pair of footsteps walk up to her until the soft hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up, expecting to see Erk, with an angry face filled with hate. Instead, it was Lucius that she laid eyes on. The young monk's eyes were filled with concern, as his eyebrows were drawn together in question.  
  
"Serra... I'm so sorry."  
  
Serra looked into his blue eyes and read the sincerity that clouded them. Her eyes were watering, and before she could stop herself, she had started crying on his shoulder. Lucius, being the understanding person he is, gave her a comforting pat on the back to try to sooth any leftover anger.  
  
They stood there in that position for several minutes, before Lucius's eyes suddenly widened. "Serra... do you hear something...?"  
  
Serra pulled away from Lucius, looking around. Several yards away, she heard footsteps. They weren't running, like someone who had been looking for them, nor were they walking, like someone who was out on a casual stroll. These footsteps were very quiet, but they were hurried. After awhile, the footsteps stopped, and they were replaced by the sound of ruffling leaves.  
  
Lucius looked toward the forest not far from their position. "Be on guard, Serra. It might be an enemy spy."  
  
Lucius placed a finger on his Aura spellbook and readied for attack, while Serra edged slightly behind Lucius, left fist balled and Heal staff raised in a defensive position. They both stood there, waiting for whomever it was to show themselves. After a long time, Serra lowered her staff. "Maybe it was just a squirrel or something, Lucius... you're being a little too superst- KYAAAAAAAAA!!!"  
  
From the right, an assassin flew, seemingly from nowhere, toward Serra, knives drawn. Serra screamed, and Lucius stood between her and the assassin. Quick as a Thunder spell cast by Erk in a bad mood, Lucius's Aura book was open, and he had started collecting the light energy necessary for the attack. The assassin, however, was quicker than a Thunder spell cast by Erk in a bad mood, and kneed the shocked monk in the stomach, effectively knocking him out. By then, Serra had stopped screaming, quickly managed to pick up the Aura book that Lucius had dropped, and tie it to her back, where it was well hidden by the complex folds of her scarf.  
  
The assassin slung an unconscious Lucius over his shoulder and glanced at Serra just as she had finished hiding the Aura book and tucking her Heal staff into her belt. She panicked when he stepped toward her direction. "Ah... ah..."  
  
From behind, another figure, who had snuck in unheard while Serra was screaming, held up a Sleep staff and had started chanting the spell. Serra heard the chant and recognized it, having used the same thing countless times in battles, and started calculating how much time she had until the spell took effect. Running would be no use, as the spell could be affective even from a long distance away. She could only think of one solution at the moment, and it was to put her famed talent to use.  
  
Serra raised her head toward the castle and shouted as loudly as she could. "HELP!!! THERE ARE ASSASSINS IN... in... the..."  
  
The figure with the Sleep staff smiled in satisfaction as the pink-haired cleric collapsed to the grass, sleeping soundly as if she had simply gone to bed after a nice day of picking berries. The assassin, with Lucius still slung over his shoulder, watched as the figure gently gathered up Serra in his arms.  
  
"No need to be so gentle to a prisoner, Mint."  
  
The figure looked at the assassin. "Oh, but Rade, can't you be just a little more kind to them? They aren't even our enemies."  
  
"I know, Mint, but they have befriended that cobra who murdered our mistress's beloved." The assassin, Rade, raised a fist in anger, being careful not to drop Lucius. "If you recall, Mistress was heartbroken when Lady Lyndis ended Lord Lundgren's life. These two fools were even present during the battle; I remember watching this very monk on my shoulders murder my father."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mint commented. "It's true that they have done a lot to Mistress. But they weren't doing it for themselves. They were doing it because they were being told to, as we are being told to bring them to the Hidden Fort. I, for one, choose to treat them with kindness, and wait until their commanding officers, along with that cursed tactician of theirs, pay the price."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
"KYAAAAAAAAA!!!"  
  
The scream came unexpected, and Erk's head turned at the sound, resulting in a head-to-head collision with none other than Canas.  
  
"I'm sorry!" the nerdy druid quickly apologized. "I wasn't looking where I was going, and- "  
  
"Serra!" Erk cried, not having heard a single word Canas had said. "That sounded like Serra!"  
  
Canas blinked. "Why, now that I think about it, yes it did. Do you suppose she's in trouble?"  
  
Erk hadn't waited for his reply; he had already gotten up, and was now turning his head every which way, trying to identify where the sound had come from. Canas got up and dusted himself off. "Well, I suppose you would be rather concerned with her well-being; you've been looking for her for two hours, and skipped breakfast in the process. It was delicious, too. Lowen was very proud of it..."  
  
Erk frowned. "Pipe down, you're talking almost as much as Wil does. I can't hear myself think."  
  
Canas was about to utter a sincere apology, but another sound echoed throughout the castle, again in Serra's voice.  
  
"HELP!!! THERE ARE ASSASSINS IN..."  
  
Erk panicked, and started trying to think of where Serra could be that would allow her to be caught by assassins. Canas, however, had noticed how Serra's voice had grown weaker and weaker until it couldn't be heard, and started to wonder why that was. They both stood there for a couple of seconds, frantically guessing and casually pondering, until two different voices interrupted the silence.  
  
"I told you, it's most likely another joke she's playing, just to get people to worry about her- you know her! She'll do anything to get attention! Sometimes, she even embarrasses us to get what she wants! Haven't you heard her prayers?"  
  
"Well, all I'm saying is, we can never be too cautious, right? I mean, it's not as if spies couldn't get here; they could easily have taken her away, and by the way you're thinking, we won't be able to find her until it's too late!"  
  
Lyn turned around the corner, quick-stepping like she needed to get somewhere; she was quickly followed by Hector, who seemed to have a hard time keeping up with her wide strides. Hector looked very angry, while Lyn's face held concern.  
  
"Well... well... this is _Serra_ we're talking about, okay? We might even be better off with a replacement!" Hector fumed. "Look, I- "  
  
The heavy axe-man stopped talking when he noticed that his cape was being tugged backward. He had walked right past Canas and Erk, and upon hearing Serra's name, Erk had grabbed onto the blood-red cloth. "Lord Hector, I have decided I want to resign. I believe that working in this group is too stressful; I want to head back to Castle Wrigley. What do you think of that?"  
  
Deep blue eyes widened, filled with shock. "What are you talking about? You are very important part in our team! What would we be able to do without you?"  
  
Erk shrugged. "That wouldn't be my problem. You could easily find someone to replace me, right? Pent can use neutral magic too, and I believe that if you train Priscilla hard enough, she would be able to figure out some of my old spells." He glared up at the taller man. "Am I right?"  
  
Hector blinked, getting more frustrated by the minute. "No, you're not! Pent has different statistics, and Priscilla will never surpass your skill in neutral magic! You're unique, Erk; there's no way we could find a replacement for- "  
  
"You are saying milady Serra is not unique also?" Erk glared. Hector swallowed. "Serra is a cleric; she could easily be replaced by Lucius, that is true... but how many clerics do you know have the extreme fire of determination in her eyes?"  
  
Canas, Lyn, and Hector stood there, dumbfounded. Erk sighed in defeat, letting go of Hector's cape. "I am sorry, I... haven't been myself lately. If you'll excuse me..." he shuffled down the hall, toward the stairway. He placed a foot on the first step, and then turned around, furious again. "I'll want to know your decision with Serra as soon as you decide; keep in mind that if you do not decide to bring her back, than I myself will resign from this group and set out to find her myself."  
  
He scurried up the stairs, red cape billowing behind him. Lyn watched as the material disappeared from sight, and sighed. "Poor Erk... he's been very sensitive about Serra since this morning... I think something finally got him."  
  
Canas cleared his throat, and the two lords turned his direction. The druid placed a finger on his monocle and his thumb on his chin, and placed the other hand on his hip, fitting in the last pieces of his puzzle. "Erk and I were much closer to the general direction Serra's scream came from, and I have noticed this; on her cry for help, her voice indeed was very loud, as it usually is; but, as the sentence went on, her voice grew dimmer and dimmer, until it was incoherent." Canas's eyes went toward the ceiling. "It is curious that she would do that, if she had been pretending; most people would have found it more convincing if she had completed her sentence in the same volume. Would you not agree?"  
  
"Hmm... yes, that does make sense," Lyn agreed, nodding. "Though, I have no idea as to why her voice would weaken like the way you described."  
  
Canas twirled his hands in a circular motion. A white mist formed from his movement, and when he stopped the circular motion, a swirled, blue-gemmed staff was suspended in midair next to his sleeve. The aura it emitted made Lyn rub her eyes tiredly and Hector suspend a yawn. Lyn's concerned look deepened.  
  
"Don't tell me... they used a Sleep staff...?"  
  
Canas nodded. "The logic fits, does it not? I come to the conclusion that Serra is no longer within these castle walls, nor in any field or forest that is tended by the castle."  
  
Lyn's breath intake became louder, and Hector's eyebrows drew together. Canas waved away his Sleep staff and crossed his arms. "That is why- "  
  
He was interrupted by an object that flew from an open window. He barely managed dodged it in time, and the object stuck to the wall with a loud _thunk_. It appeared to be a knife, with a message stabbed onto it. Hector pulled out the dagger while Lyn gently removed the message, careful not to destroy it. She read it out loud as Canas read over her shoulder.  
  
"To Lady Lyndis, Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, and respectfully, the Tactician:  
  
We have... how should we say this politely, hmm... _visited_ your castle this afternoon, and we've taken several people with us. We currently do not know their names, but we will describe them to you:  
  
A young, pink-haired and loud lady, equipped with the skill of staves  
  
A young blonde lady, skilled in the arts of light magic  
  
A fairly young bright green-haired girl, apparently skilled in the arts of neutral magic  
  
A purple-haired thief with a painful-looking scar on one eye  
  
A green, white haired man with heavy armor and several lances  
  
A brown-haired young man, carrying a Longbow  
  
A young redheaded lady, again equipped with the skill of staves  
  
A young Sacean male, dressed in blue and carrying a sword  
  
We have invited them over to _our_ castle, the Hidden Fort. We would appreciate if the rest of you came and paid us a visit... there are people who are just _dying_ to see you.  
  
Good day to you, and may St. Elimine's praises hold your desires."  
  
Lyn nearly dropped the message in shock. "They... they've not only abducted Serra, but they've taken a large portion of our party, too... there's no way we could just let this slide."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Ack! When did my odd, random, uninteresting story develop a plot? (Is shocked) Well... err... ... um... ...  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
I am almost absolutely sure that I got some information wrong here. (Sighs) If you ask about (in the first paragraph) what Kent and Sain were doing, well... (Cough) Yeah... I you can't figure it out, I'll just let someone else explain to you. (Cough cough cough)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Oh, and I'm making a Fire Emblem shrine, and there's going to be a part that specifically exists to list people who kick Renault! (Grins from ear to ear) So if you want me to add you on the list fast, email your penname to tacticianofsacaeyahoo.com. (Don't ask about the address; all the other addresses I could think of were taken...) That's the email for the future site. Please do not visit the site yet. Be sure to list the subject as '**Kicking Renault**' so I know what it's about. Thank you!  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Corrections are appreciated, flames are welcomed, compliments are loved, another chapter in 'The Troubles of Matchmaking' would make me jump in joy (and possibly hit my head on the ceiling); pennames for the 'Kick Renault' page and reviews will fill me with guilt and make me want to write the next chapter as quickly as possible. (Sniff sniff) This chapter was longer than the others, I guess to make up for it coming so _late_... so yeah. Until next time.  
  
(Kicks Renault) 


	4. I'm not that strong

I'm a slacker, as some of you might have noticed. U.U Yeah...  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
This was me when I was reading the reviews for chapter three:  
  
(Reads R Amythest's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Aw... yeah... I know how that feels... poor Lucius is way too forgiving...  
  
Raven: And someday he'll die because of that.  
  
Scarabsi: Oh, you be quiet. (Kicks Renault)  
  
(Reads HellFenix's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Yeah, I wonder too... I'm using it to replace 'damn', because it's kind of like a Fire Emblem version of sending to hell, right?  
  
Canas: But the problem is, one time she said, "Flux you," to someone that was annoying her, and her friend said "That's okay; I'll just say it for you. F-CK YOU!!!" So... be careful when using 'flux'. And, to fill in, flux is actually the rate of the flow of energy or particles across a given surface; it can also mean a substance added to molten metals to bond with-  
  
Scarabsi: Canas... I think that is quite enough.  
  
Canas: Oh, if you say so. To bond with impurities that can be...  
  
Scarabsi: (sweatdrops) Let's ignore him for now...  
  
(Reads Calum the Angel's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Yeah! I know! What furthermore annoys me is that Erk has so many fangirls, and Serra is the most hated character in Fire Emblem! I mean, why does everyone hate her anyway? Her personality adds sparkle to the game, especially next to Erk, who's basically grayscale without her. Admit it, fans; without Serra, there's no way Erk would even be half as popular as he is, right? I mean, sure, he's got his good looks, but you know the old corny saying, 'Looks aren't anything', right? Here, listen to this proverb:  
  
Lucius: Er, I'm a proberb? Oh, well... "Beauty is but skin-deep".  
  
Scarabsi: Yeah! See? And listen to this proverb!  
  
Priscilla: Um... "The saying that beauty is but skin-deep is but a skin-deep saying".  
  
Scarabsi: Awww! Isn't that pretty and sparkly! So there you go; Serra and Erk analysis!  
  
(Reads avi17's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Yes! Yes they will be! NO KIDDING!!! (Squeaks and flails arms around)  
  
Auriyu: That means she's incredibly flattered.  
  
(Reads RianneHime's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Yes, of course you would be first in the listing. You're the one who told me what a (bleep) Renault was, so you kind of started it, right? It would be dumb of me not to put you first.  
  
_Somewhere in the castle_  
  
Matthew, Raven, Rath: !#$%&()!#$%&()!!!!!! (That hurts Scarabsi's fingers)  
  
Legault: I was abducted. Ow. Yeah, there's a reason why. (Searches in pockets) Hey! Matthew pilfered my Fell Contract!  
  
Scarabsi: Actually, I pilfered it, and... gave it to Matthew... but yeah...  
  
(Reads Cathy Barton's review)  
  
Scarabsi: Ha ha ha... glad you liked the Sain/Kent. Nobody seemed to notice, but neither of the famous cavaliers were abducted. (Scratches head) I'm still going to write about them; their sweetness just seems cuter out on the battlefield.  
  
Kent, Sain: Don't we get any say in this?  
  
Scarabsi: It's either that or you get abducted.  
  
Kent: ...... Good point.  
  
(Reads Auriyu's review)  
  
Scarabsi: ... ... (almost no comment)  
  
Jaffar: (Sharpening his knives)  
  
(Reads Amethyst Bubble's review)  
  
Scarabsi: (Is smothered by love) ...! (Squeaks and flails arms around)  
  
Auriyu: I'm assuming I don't have to tell you what that means again.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
So... yeah! (That took up a page and a half...) I'll try to make this chapter interesting, but... no guarantees.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
**Warning: I'm writing a warning again... but I swear this is the last one! Slash, straight, whatever isn't your cup of tea, don't read. This chapter is mostly about HOW in Athos's beard all those people got kidnapped so quickly (beside Lucius and Serra, which you all already know). You should also know that all of these events are happening at around the same time, so don't get too confused if there's a little time-turning going on. Yeah. If you find this annoying, send something (review, email) complaining about wasting chapters. I'll listen.  
**  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Disclaimer: Uh, let's see... a quarter... a penny... two nickels... a dime... a five dollar bill... a one dollar bill... Sorry, I don't think I have enough money for you to sue me.  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Four  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Nino watched as Lucius left the dining room, and it didn't take a magical genius to figure out that he was looking to comfort Serra. She reached for her glass of milk and held it to her lips, but nothing came out. She blinked, and realized that she had been so busy plotting on the 'Uncle Legault and Uncle Heath Matchmaking Plan (Revised Version XVII)' and listening to Serra scream at Erk (because let's face it, who in the castle didn't?) that she hadn't noticed her breakfast slowly disappearing down her esophagus. She got up and left the table, skipping into one of the many halls in the castle, and continued to try to think of a way to get Uncle Heath and Uncle Legault together without Uncle Heath reaching for a lance or Uncle Legault borrowing Jaffar's Killing Edges. She realized that she had been plotting this thing for quite a while; maybe she should fish out Jaffar somewhere and let out all the excess plans so that she wouldn't get that exploding feeling again.  
  
Nino skipped around, turning her head this way and that. Jaffar had left the breakfast table earlier than she had, so she had no clue as to where in the castle the silent assassin could be. She stopped when she turned the corner and found an assassin standing there, examining a tapestry. She smiled and waved. "Hey, Jaffar! I have some more news for...?"  
  
The assassin had heard her voice, and turned to see who it was. Nino gulped; this wasn't Jaffar, nor was it anyone she knew. Maybe it was a new party member that Lord Eliwood had forgotten to introduce to her. She tried to act friendly. "Um... hello! You must be new to this army! Lord Eliwood hasn't introduced you yet, so I guess that means you're still fairly new and haven't fought in any of our battles yet... Ah! Wh-what are you doing?"  
  
The assassin had reached a hand toward her, and she was slightly nervous at where it seemed to be heading- her neck. She glanced up into the assassin's eyes, and saw not friendliness, not cold, not recognition or any form of becoming a new friend. The assassin was smirking, like a cat that had finally found the cute fuzzy little toy mouse that his owner had been hiding for a month. Nino reached toward her Elfire book, but before she could pull it out of her sack, the assassin's hand reached her neck and tightened. Her mind instantly filled with shock and fear, and she felt very helpless as the assassin's smirk widened. Then he spoke.  
  
"It's very nice to meet you, young mage. My name's Scourge. I'm happy that you can join my army."  
  
Nino wanted to hit herself for dropping her guard. Everyone else in the army always did seem a tad superstitious; now she knew why. _I'm sorry, Jaffar... I... didn't... listen... to..._  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Legault skipped around, once in a while glancing over his shoulder, then to his left and right, then squinted in front of him, and lastly, checked the ceiling and ground. He hadn't seen Nino since breakfast hour ended, and he was starting to get suspicious. Now would be the perfect time for Nino to spring on top of him and start asking him personal questions again. He turned his attention from the ground to the space in front of him, so that he wouldn't walk into any walls, and hugged the wall when he saw a green and white wall running toward him with a Silver Lance in one hand and a Javelin in the other.  
  
Heath stopped when he saw someone leaning on the wall, and grabbed Legault by the collar. "Alright, you spy, I knew you were around here somewhere! You can't get me that easily; tell your commanding officer that I'm not quite ready to... Oh, sorry, Legault."  
  
Legault rolled his eyes. "No harm done, Heath. Say, we seem to be running into each other quite often lately. Now, care to explain why you're carrying your Silver Lance and Javelin _inside the bloody castle_?"  
  
Heath's eyes shifted to the left, then shifted to the right, then leaned closer to Legault's face. "I sense spies in the castle. They're out to get me, I just know it."  
  
Legault blinked. "Uh..."  
  
Heath felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He whipped around, dropping Legault, and pointed his Silver Lance at a painting on the other side of the hallway, ignoring Legault's squeak of pain. "You! Show yourself! There's no use in hiding!"  
  
The wyvern rider stood there with the lance pointed to the painting for a while, before the painting swung open and a small boy popped out. "Aw... I knew I couldn't trust Page's crummy map! These secret passageways are so hard to stay silent in..."  
  
"I heard that!" came a voice from the painting. A girl around the same age as the boy crawled out of the painting silently, and slammed the painting back on the wall very hard. The boy winced.  
  
"Page! Your stealth is horrible! You like crawling around and walking silent, but you always handle doors and windows so loudly! What kind of thief are you?" the boy complained.  
  
The girl, Page, rolled his eyes. "At least that armor guy didn't hear me! I mean, I know you can be loud, but that's just screwing up!"  
  
Legault and Heath stood there, blinking. "Hey," Legault interjected. "Would either of you mind telling me why you just popped out of a painting in our castle, arguing about stealth?"  
  
Page bowed, and then pushed the boy's head down when he wasn't bowing. "I'm Page, the thief in training, and that's my twin brother, Quill, the shaman in training."  
  
"We've come to abduct you," Quill added. Page bonked him on the head. "What? We did!"  
  
Heath poked Quill gently with his Silver Lance. "You two don't look very strong, but... you're not spies from Bern, are you?"  
  
Quill, Page, and Legault all rolled their eyes at once. "No, silly," Page scoffed. "But you were right, we _were_ sent here to get you. And your friend." She looked over at Quill. "You can take care of them, right?"  
  
"Sure," Quill answered, rolling up his heavy sleeves. He opened up a basic Flux book and cast it on Legault and Heath. It didn't do anything, other than give them incredible headaches.  
  
"Ow! You..." Heath swung his Javelin at Quill, but Page pulled her brother down before the Javelin could hit. Then she picked up the Javelin and hit Heath on the head with the tip very hard, sending him to the floor.  
  
"Dimwit! Can't you do anything right?" she growled at Quill.  
  
Quill shrugged. "Hey, these guys are tough, and we're just fourteen-year old children! I bet they faced plenty shamans stronger than me before." He switched his Flux book for his Nosferatu book. "Do you think this would work?"  
  
"Heck, no! Look at that guy, he's a very advanced thief, and you're using a Nosferatu spell on him? That spell is even slower than Flux, and you've never even tried it yet!"  
  
"Well... there's a first for everything, right? Why don't you hold him down, or something?" Quill suggested.  
  
Page sighed, then walked up to Legault. "I'm sorry, but my moronic brother needs target practice. You won't mind if I tie up your limbs, will you?" she asked politely while she tied up Legault's hands and feet.  
  
"What, don't I get any say in this?" Legault demanded. He looked over at the pile of armor on the ground. "Heath! Heath, get up! Heath!"  
  
Quill shrugged and opened his book. "Now, um..."  
  
He had to cast the spell seven times before Legault went out. He looked at the frail book, which had already begun to fall apart. "What! I use this cheapo thing seven times and it's already falling apart? When am I allowed to use that Luna spell?"  
  
Page kicked him in the shin. "Hey, Quill, help me pick this guy up. He's more than kind of heavy."  
  
Quill shook his head. "Forget it. Just teleport them back to Hidden Fort. There's no way I'm going to be able to carry that much armor."  
  
"It's tiring... alright." Page propped Legault on the wall, and the two of them worked to get Heath up. She stood at the wall, facing them, and concentrated. Quill added a little of the extra energy he had gotten from Legault, and the thief and wyvern rider disappeared. Page collapsed from exhaustion, and Quill looked at the wall, where Heath and Legault had been a second ago.  
  
"Um... how do _we_ get back?"  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Wil walked around the castle, stopping once in a while to admire a painting or a suit of armor. He smiled widely, and started a one-sided conversation with anybody who passed by. Mostly, they ended with the person telling him that they had something to do and had to be on their way. Wil, being the kind person he was, always ended the conversation and continued walking. He knew he should be stocking up on arrows right around this hour, or preparing his clothing so that they were comfortable any time he would need to spring into battle. He fingered his nearly empty quiver, and tutted at the way his Shortbow looked like it was going to crack any second. _Maybe I should go see Merlinus...  
_  
He looked around, trying to recognize the hallway he was in, but to his dismay, he discovered that he had never seen this hallway before. He tried to remember the picture on the map he had been given to see where he was, but the map wasn't the most descriptive thing in the world. He shrugged._ Okay... maybe I'll go see him later...  
_  
The cheerful archer patted his Longbow. _At least I have this, in case the Shortbow breaks, and I can make arrows out of almost anything I find...  
_  
He wandered around, and came across a door. Curious to see what was behind the door, he opened it and peeked inside.  
  
"... And you, Quill, you're doing the same as your sister. You can follow one of her secret passageways and look for people to abduct. If you are discovered, then take them out and bring them to Hidden Fort. Did I make myself clear?"  
  
"No, you didn't, Point. I still can't see the wall behind you."  
  
"You know what I meant."  
  
Wil had no idea what the people in the room were up to, but it didn't sound good. He opened the door a little wider and slipped in, readying his bow.  
  
A young girl's ears moved when he took his first step. She turned around. "Point! There's someone behind you!"  
  
The man, Point, turned around, facing Will. "Flux it, I thought this place was supposed to be impossible to find!"  
  
Wil blinked. "Oh, is that so? No wonder I couldn't find my way back." He drew back the arrow, aiming carefully. "Tell me what you're up to."  
  
Point was unimpressed. Instead, he made a motion to the two other people in the room. "Quill, Page, hurry up and go. I'll take care of this one."  
  
The young boy and girl nodded, and they both opened up separate paintings in the wall and disappeared down them. One painting shut quietly, almost making no sound, while the other one slammed shut so loudly that Wil winced, causing his aim to go off. He started aiming carefully again, and was a little more nervous now that that Point person had all his attention on him.  
  
Point smiled. "Yes, just you and me now, hm?" He slipped out a Fimbulvetr book. "I think this will be quick and easy."  
  
Wil panicked and let the arrow loose. Point arched slightly back, and the arrow hit uselessly on the wall. A dreadful cracking sound rang through the room as Wil's Shortbow snapped in half. Frustrated, Wil slammed it to the ground and reached for his Longbow, but Point didn't let him.  
  
Point opened the Fimbulvetr book and cast the spell, forming ice around Wil's arm. Point laughed as Wil tried to reach his Longbow with his frozen arm. "My... what an amusing fellow, you are. What is your name?"  
  
"You think I'll tell you?" Wil spat. He tried to hack the ice off his arm, and hated feeling helpless and unarmed.  
  
"Oh... you mean you won't tell me? That's too bad." Point thumbed through the book and formed three circles in the air, before channeling the magic into an attack twice as powerful as the first.  
  
The archer froze in place, ice covering all his features. Point walked closer to him. He examined the archer, then picked him up. "Hmph. There goes my victim..."  
  
"Stop where you are."  
  
Point looked toward the direction of the voice, but not in time to dodge the arrow that pierced him in the shoulder. He almost dropped the ice statue in pain, and glared at the person that stepped through the door. "Who are you?"  
  
"... ..." The person just reached for another arrow. "... I have no reason to tell you."  
  
Point held on tighter to the ice statue. "Well, if you don't tell me, then I'm going!" He shoved past the person, and jumped out the open window.  
  
"... ..."  
  
Rath stepped into the room, and looked at it. He bent down and examined the cracked Shortbow lying on the ground. He pounded a fist into the floor, enraged. "... ... They've got Wil... ..."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Sain was bored. Yes, bored. Kent was talking business with one of the lords, so he needed to do something romantic to somebody or else he was going to burst.  
  
He entered a room, and waved cheerfully to Priscilla, the single occupant in it, beside himself. "Good morning, Princess Priscilla! Even prettier than yesterday, I see!"  
  
Priscilla looked up from the Fire book that she was studying. "Oh...! Good morning to you, too, Sain!"  
  
Sain nodded. "Thank you!" He smiled cheerfully at her, and was delighted to see her smile back. Too bad, there wasn't anything he could do. She really doesn't seem to fancy anybody at this time. He looked around, and jumped when the door burst open. It was Guy.  
  
Guy was panting hard, and extremely annoyed. "That little low-life! Attacking me straight after breakfast... when I was unarmed..." He fingered the small cut on this cheek. "I can't believe he injured me, too! Cheater..." He flopped onto the ground, sitting as if he was at a campfire, and stared at the floor in front of him.  
  
Priscilla got out of her chair and leaned next to him. "Are you alright?"  
  
Guy looked up. "Huh? Oh, uh... yeah, I'm alright."  
  
Priscilla pointed to his cut. "You have a cut on your cheek. Here, let me heal it." She pulled out her Heal staff and healed the small cut. "You should tell me next time you're hurt." She stood up and headed back to her seat.  
  
"But... it was only a scratch... Strange girl." Guy fingered his cheek, which was now completely healed.  
  
Sain smiled. Bingo. He kneeled next to Guy. "Hey."  
  
Guy looked up, annoyed look back on his face. "What?"  
  
Sain grinned innocently, and grabbed Guy's wrist strongly. Guy struggled to turn his wrist, so as to escape, but Sain shifted his grip to a higher part of his arm. Then he walked over to Priscilla, pulling a struggling Guy with him, and grabbed her wrist, a little more gently then he had Guy's. "Excuse me."  
  
"What?" Priscilla asked, bewildered, as Sain dragged his two victims over to the closest closet and dumped them in. The green haired cavalier locked the door and admired his handiwork.  
  
"Sorry, I'm not going to let you out!" He yelled at the door, and skipped out of the room, not as bored anymore.  
  
If Guy was annoyed before, then he had steam coming out of his ears now. "Sain! You low-life scum!" He tried to stand up, but the closet was very small, and he found himself squeezed uncomfortably close to Priscilla. "Ah, and it's such a small closet! That little..."  
  
Priscilla sighed. "He knows all the closets in the castle by now; I think he picked one of the smallest ones on purpose. I would know; he puts me in these closets all the time." She looked over at Guy. "He'll get bored of keeping us here eventually, and he'll let us out."  
  
"I'm not going to wait for him!" Priscilla shrugged at Guy's stubbornness and helped him get up. He pounded on the door. "HEY!!! IS ANYBODY OUT THERE?!? COME LET US OUT!!!" Guy paused, thinking about what he just said. "UNLESS YOU'RE MATTHEW! IF YOU'RE MATTHEW, I'M NOT GOING TO OWE YOU ANOTHER FAVOR SO DON'T BOTHER SAVING ME!"  
  
Priscilla sweatdropped. "Guy... this small space can't have too much volume... it hurts my ears..."  
  
"Oh, sorry," Guy apologized. He leaned against the door, waiting. "So I guess this means we _do _have to wait... stupid Sain... stupid Matthew..."  
  
Priscilla sighed again. She practiced the proper wrist movement to conjure a flame, and kept an eye on the knob in case anybody _did_ come to save them.  
  
After only a matter of seconds, an odd clicking sound was heard, and Guy jumped off the door. Just in time, too, because the door swung open. A mercenary and a myrmidon were behind the door, smiling.  
  
"Need a little help there?" the myrmidon asked. Guy blinked.  
  
"Uh... thanks for letting us out." He began to step out of the closet, but the myrmidon jumped forward and made a chopping motion. Guy saw it coming, and reached to block the myrmidon's hand with his sword, before he remembered that he was unarmed. He didn't have enough time to stated his frustration, however, as the myrmidon's palm hit him into the wall. He slid down the wall, smearing blood all over the silk artwork tacked to it.  
  
Priscilla had gotten out at this point, and gasped. "Oh no..."  
  
The mercenary smiled. "You're next, doll face."  
  
Priscilla jumped to her feet and ran. The mercenary chased her, the smile still on his face. The myrmidon was picking up Guy and slinging him over his shoulder, careful not to get blood on himself. The red haired healer was tiring out fast; she was used to riding on a horse, not running like this. Finally, she tripped on a rug that was inconveniently placed, and fell down hard. The fall nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs, and she tried to spring back up on her feet. She wasn't quick enough, however, as the mercenary reached her before she could make it up.  
  
"Sorry, doll face. Mistress's orders." He held up a fist and knocked lightly, but forcefully, on her head, sending her out. Then he picked her up and turned to his myrmidon friend. "Let's go. Where were we meeting the others again?"  
  
"At the bridge, of course. That's where Rade was going to write the little letter to poor Lady Lyndis to tell her about the news." The myrmidon replied. "I think we'd make it; I'm just hoping my buddy here won't bleed to death on the way."  
  
"Ah, he's tough, he'll make it. Let's go."  
  
The two jumped out the window, landing softly and soundlessly on the grass below, and ran quickly out of sight, leaving the room in a huge mess.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Okay. That's it. (Phew!) This is one of my fastest and longest updates, but I had an inspiration attack. (Sweatdrops) That was fun to write; too bad I couldn't think of a name for the myrmidon and mercenary. I'll do that later. (Sweatdrops again)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Like I said, there's a lot of time turning. The Wil-napping actually happened before the Heath-napping and Legault-napping, and poor Rath is still fuming. Aww... (The bigger question is, how did Rath find his way there to begin with? One of the plot holes I'll fill out later... I'm amazingly good at filling out plot holes...)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Yes! I updated! So now Amethyst Bubble has to post the next chapter for her story! And I cannot wait until I get to read it...   
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
And before you ask, there is a reason why Priscilla was abducted, other than convenience's sake. The baddies didn't pick her out, no, but... I'll tell you later. (Winks)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Corrections are appreciated, flames are welcomed, compliments are loved, pennames for the 'Kick Renault' page and reviews will help me write, and another chapter in 'The Troubles of Matchmaking' will help me post. (Although the chapter might appear before I finish writing the next chapter... oh well.)  
  
(Kicks Renault) 


	5. It's nice to know

I can't believe it... Amethyst Bubble's newest chapter was pure bliss... now I can die happy... (Happy sigh)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
My inspiration attack ended... aw, man... I hope I get another one. (Eh heh heh heh...) I'm such an absent-minded authoress who is missing the essential ability to plan ahead of plot, 'cause guess what? I made a very HUGE mistake that actually affects the plotline, just by forgetting to type _two friggin' words!_ (Sob) You see, in the third chapter, the list states that they found 'a young Sacean male, dressed in blue and carrying a sword' (which everybody figured out was Guy). But, in the fourth chapter, Guy clearly states that he was unarmed- meaning he didn't have his sword with him when he was attacked! (Whacks herself for being so dumb) So, uh, yeah... when I find the time, I'm going to fix that... for now, pretend that the list says 'dressed in blue and carrying an **empty sword case**'. Okay? (Sweatdrops)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
Disclaimer: Hey! Look on the left- it's a DISclaimer! It's DISSING the claimer! AHAHAHAHAHA... it's not that funny... well, if I was claiming these characters, I wouldn't have put a DISclaimer there- I'd be DISSING myself! So... HA! (Gets a tomato in the face)  
  
(Kicks Renault)  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Five  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
"It is time for lunch," Kent stated. "I must wonder- why are so many people missing? Especially the people who are fast to come to meals... I haven't seen Nino, Jaffar, Lucius, Erk, Canas, and..." Kent gasped, causing Sain to turn to him, looking more than a little concerned. "... and... I haven't seen Guy... at lunch... something must be really wrong..."  
  
"Hm? Oh, wait, I just locked him in the closet," Sain remembered. "Come to think of it, I think I forgot to let him back out, too..."  
  
"You what?" There was plenty of shock in his voice when he asked this. "Why did you lock him in a closet? Go unlock him now!"  
  
"It was only another one of those Priscilla things... besides, he looked like he needed cheering! I wonder how Princess Priscilla is doing, too..." Sain got out of his lunch chair and headed toward the room with the closet.  
  
"Sain! That is improper behavior, and disrespect toward a lady!" Kent got out of his lunch chair also and followed Sain. "Besides, didn't you say you'd stop calling her 'Princess'?"  
  
Sain shrugged while he continued running. "Old habits, hard to break." He brought out a Door Key and walked into the room. He stopped short, causing Kent to bump into him.  
  
"Ouch! Sain, what...?"  
  
"K-kent..." Sain was frozen, staring at the space in front of him, barely able to speak. Then he turned around and gave Kent a big, scared hug. "Oh, K-kent... it's... it's..."  
  
"It's what?" Kent looked over Sain's shoulder, and paled. He saw the messy room, the mussed rug, the tapestry stained in blood, and lastly- the open, and empty, closet. His eyes went over to the window, which was open, curtains swaying in the breeze. He gently pushed Sain off him and walked over to the window, looking down to the grass below. There were two unmistakable sets of footprints, right underneath the window, where the people must have jumped. "Sain... come look here."  
  
Sain walked over and looked over Kent's shoulder, noticing the footprints. "Oh... what... what would those mean?"  
  
Kent looked at the size and depth of the prints. "They're both too big to be female feet, and they're imprinted too deep into the ground to be a regular human size... what could that mean?"  
  
Sain tried to put the logic together, but he wasn't too good at guessing games, and the fact that Rath had just stormed into the room, slamming the door hard, didn't help. They both jumped when they heard the slam, and were even more surprised when they turned to see Rath, possibly fuming. The nomadic archer sat down on a chair, picked up a cushion, and started stabbing it furiously with an arrow, until it was only a pile of feathers and blue cloth. He threw the pile on the floor, making the room even messier than it already was. Then he reached for another cushion and started stabbing that one as well, this time much faster and much more furiously. "... ... ... I'll kill them... ... ..."  
  
Kent and Sain inched closer to him, careful to take it a little at a time in case they accidentally blew his top and he decided to start stabbing them next. "Uh... Rath?"  
  
"What?!?" Rath hissed, and the two cavaliers simultaneously jumped. The nomadic archer usually didn't say much in that tone of voice; it had to be something very bad.  
  
"Uhm... nothing." Sain slowly inched away from Rath, hoping to live a long, healthy, romantic life. He dragged Kent with him, because the orange-haired man was also the one he wanted to live his long, healthy, romantic life with.  
  
The door opened again; this time, it was Jaffar. The Angel of Death threw himself onto another chair, and put his face in his hands. Almost immediately after, Raven stomped in, kicked the last chair over, and sat on the floor, pounding his fist into his palm.  
  
Kent and Sain exchanged looks. "Rath and Raven... both extremely angry at the same time... and Jaffar extremely depressed... something's happened," Kent whispered. Sain nodded in agreement. Then every occupant in the room looked up- either confused, depressed, or extremely angry-- toward the direction of the door. There was now a lot of talking from the hallway on the other side, and when the door opened, a large portion of the army swarmed in.  
  
"Raven, please understand," Rebecca said worriedly. "It... they didn't mean to... he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time... please, Raven..."  
  
"_Off_," Raven growled, shaking the female archer's hand off his shoulder. "They not only have Lucius, but the have Priscilla, too! They're not going to _live_ to regret this once I'm through with them..."  
  
"... ... They've taken Nino... ..." Jaffar muttered, resting his chin on one palm. "... _I'm_ the one who'll cut them down..."  
  
Kent walked over to Lyn, who was shaking her head and looking like the whole situation was her fault. "Milady, would you know what is happening here? Why is everyone so...?"  
  
Lyn looked up at him, still looking like she was regretting something. "Oh, Kent... you don't know, do you? You weren't at lunch..." She unrolled a piece of parchment that was in her hand, and showed it to him. "Th-this... I told everyone about it at lunch and... and..."  
  
Kent took the parchment, and read through it, his face paling more and more after every sentence. "It... milady... Sain and I... we _were_ at lunch, but he remembered that he'd locked people in closets again, so we came to free them, but..."  
  
"But what?" Lyn asked, though she sounded like she'd rather not know.  
  
Kent gulped and walked over to the open closet door. "But... they were already gone... and we found this..." He pointed to the bloodstained tapestry, and Lyn gasped. "There were other things wrong with the room, but nobody can see now... that's the worst."  
  
Karel walked over. "This place reeks of blood..." he fingered his sword and licked his lips.  
  
Lyn looked at him, then looked at the list of descriptions on the parchment again. "Karel! You're still here... that means it was Guy they were talking about!" She read the description. "You were both sword-using Saceans that wear blue, so I couldn't tell..."  
  
Karel's eyes settled on the tapestry. "... Green-braid? Yes... this smells like his blood..."  
  
Lyn looked over at Kent. "Kent... who was the other person that was locked in with him?"  
  
"Well... if I recall correctly, it was Priscilla who was also locked in, milady," Kent said.  
  
Lyn nodded. "Well, it's been confirmed." She held up eight fingers, and pulled one down after each name. "They've got Serra, Lucius, Nino, Legault, Heath, Wil, Priscilla, and Guy." She looked through the crowd. "Oh, and have you seen Rath or Matthew anywhere? They weren't at lunch, so we were worried about them..."  
  
Kent motioned to the first chair, where Rath was now snapping his arrow in half. "Rath is over there, but I think it's best that you do not disturb him... he's a little angry about something. Matthew I haven't seen..."  
  
Just as he said those words, Matthew walked in. "Greetings! I'm sorry I wasn't at lunch; I had a little practicing to do, to improve my speed, you know..." he laughed cheerily, and stopped when everyone turned toward him. He smiled nervously, looking around at all the faces. "Erm... is something the matter?"  
  
Lyn sighed. "We discussed this at lunch, but you weren't there, so..." she handed him the message. "Here. Just read it yourself."  
  
The thief's eyes skimmed through the message quickly, his hands starting to shake when he read the last bits. Without looking anyone in the eye, he handed the message back to Lyn and started walking back out of the room.  
  
"Where are you going?" Lyn asked. Matthew turned, and forced a smile on his grim features.  
  
"Why, I'm simply going back outside for a little more practice. That... is alright with you, I assume?"  
  
Lyn nodded. "Yes, but... we were wondering if you had any idea as to why Guy's blood is on this tapestry."  
  
Matthew's eyes widened, and the smile disappeared completely. "Wh-what?"  
  
"Do you have any idea as to why Guy's blood is on this tapestry, in case you inflicted some wound upon him? We did not want to assume right away that these people would hurt an innocent."  
  
"How... what... why... how would you know it's his blood?" Matthew looked at the blood-covered tapestry, looking as if he didn't want to believe anything Lyn was saying. "It could as easily been someone else's blood..."  
  
Lyn pointed to Karel, and Karel smiled his bloodthirsty smile. "I've been around your pet for awhile; I've long since memorized the smell of his blood."  
  
Matthew stared at Karel for a long, silent time, before turning around and heading back for the door. "No... I have not recently injured him. I... I need to go."  
  
He disappeared behind the door, and as the door closed for the umpteenth time that day, Rath stood up. "... ... When do we leave... ...?"  
  
"Huh?" Lyn looked over at Rath. "Leave? Where?"  
  
"... ..." Rath glared at the parchment in Lyn's hand, and she figured out what he was talking about.  
  
"Oh, you mean, to go after the people who did this?" The nomadic archer nodded, but Lyn continued to look confused. "We may leave tomorrow morning. The army needs time to pack and to adjust to new strategies not involving the missing people. Why do you ask?"  
  
"... ... No reason." Rath got up and left the room, fingering his quiver and bow. "... ... I'm going to practice... ..." he mumbled.  
  
Soon after Rath was gone, the rest of the army fanned out of the room to prepare new weapons and new strategies.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Five more logs were chopped cleanly in half, and Matthew threw them in the quickly growing pile of firewood. He reached over to the second pile, with complete logs, and propped them up, only to cut them into thirds merely seconds later. He stared at the bits of wood, panting, before slicing them up into splinters. When he had hacked the logs enough to vent out a bit of his anger, he brushed them aside with the side of his boot and wiped his sweaty forehead.  
  
"The blood... why does it bother me that much?" he hissed to himself. "I've seen blood plenty of times in battle... I've seen his blood plenty of times, too... so why... does it bother me?"  
  
He pondered for a few minutes, trying to understand himself, but didn't stay that way for long. Growling in frustration, he stabbed at the pile of splinters he had kicked aside earlier. He did feel himself improving; his endurance had gotten better over the last few minutes, and he had been able to stab into the center of every single bit of wood in the pile, regardless how small they were. He stared at the pile again, flicking off the pieces that had stuck onto his knife, and sighed. He was going insane.  
  
Matthew placed a hand on his hip, and hit it against something. Curious, the thief fingered through his pocket and pulled out a worn piece of paper. He looked at it. "It's the Fell Contract the tactician gave me three days ago..." he laughed to himself. "How foolish of me to forget such an important thing." The thief shrugged and pulled out a quill from his belt. He was about to sign the contract when his hand suddenly stopped. "... What did that idiot say it did again?" He read over the things the contract said, and he raised his eyebrows. "Hm... become an assassin, eh? I don't know, it says here I can't steal anymore..." He thought about it for a long time. Then, lifting his quill to point to the sky, he stated five words:  
  
"This is for you... Guy."  
  
Then, without further hesitation, he signed a fancy, curved '_Matthew_' on the dotted line.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
"Nrgh..." slowly, Wil opened his eyes. He sat up tiredly and looked around. "Where... am I...?" After waiting for a reply and not getting one, he sneezed. "Ack... it's so cold in here..."  
  
Slowly, his eyes adjusted to the light, and he was able to see what was around him: cages. He stood up, alarmed, and looked up. Thankfully, the ceiling of the cage was very high, but he wasn't pleased to discover that he had been locked up. He peered into the other cages, and immediately recognized who was on the stall next door. "... Lucius...?"  
  
Normal archer number three reached a finger through his own bars and into his companion's cage, tapping him on the head. "Lucius? Is that you?"  
  
The monk's eyes blinked open delicately, and suddenly widened. "Wil! I didn't expect to see you." Blue eyes looked everywhere. "Do you... know where we are?"  
  
Wil shook his head and sneezed again. "Nope... I woke up in this cell." Then he shivered. "Why is it so cold in here?"  
  
Lucius sent him a blank look. "Cold? That's odd... to me it feels a little warm..." He jumped slightly when the archer sneezed again. "Are... you sure you're okay?"  
  
"I'm fine, just a little cold," Wil sniffed. "Can you see anybody else in the cells?" He pointed to the other cells in the room, and Lucius squinted.  
  
"No, not really... wait! That's Serra, next door to me!" Lucius walked over to the cleric and took a look. "She's okay... she's only sleeping."  
  
"Lucius... Wil..." the monk and archer turned at the voice. "That..._ is_ you, right?"  
  
"Yes... who are you?" Lucius asked, walking over to the front of his cell, where the soft voice drifted from the cell across from him.  
  
"It is I, Priscilla." The red haired troubadour walked over to the front of her cell as well, revealing her face. Her eyes looked even sadder than usual. "My head... hurts." She rubbed the side of her head, where the pain was. "Why... are we in these cells, anyway?"  
  
Lucius shook his head. "I don't know, and Wil doesn't seem to know, either."  
  
Wil sighed. "Does anyone remember what happened before they woke up in their cells?" He sneezed again. "I don't really... but for some reason, I'm so cold."  
  
Lucius nodded. "I think I remember... I was comforting Serra about her fight with Erk this morning, at breakfast, when an assassin came in from nowhere. I wasn't fast enough to destroy him, and..." his eyes closed, and his eyebrows drew together, looking pained. "And... I don't remember anything beyond that." He lay down, shifting his belt out of habit so that he wouldn't sit on his spellbook, when he noticed how unusually light his belt was. Surprised, he jumped up.  
  
Wil noticed the sudden movement and sneezed. "What's wrong?" the archer watched as Lucius patted his waist frantically.  
  
"I... I lost my Aura book!"  
  
Wil jumped. "You... you did?" He fingered his shoulder, and was relieved to find his Longbow still there. "You... you didn't drop it, did you?"  
  
"I... might have..." Lucius paled. "I didn't have a very tight grip on it, and if they got me all the way from the castle to here, there's every possible chance that I could have dropped it on the way here." He sighed. "Lady Lyndis will have a fit. That tome was quite rare."  
  
A moan sounded from another one of the cells, and the three turned toward the sound.  
  
Heath opened his eyes, groaning from the massive headache. "Ow..." He tried to move his hand up to rub it, but he couldn't. Being the superstitious person he was, he immediately jumped to conclusions. "No! They've got me! I don't care where you are, or if you care about my well-being, but I have a wife and six children at home and I just hope that you'll consider them before you execute me!"  
  
Wil, Lucius, and Priscilla, who was in the cell next door, all winced and slapped their hands over their ears. "Heath!" Wil hissed, recognizing the voice instantly. "Heath! It's okay! It's only Lucius, Priscilla, and I. Well, and several other people, but we can't see who they are. Just calm down, if we're all here, these are most likely not Bern soldiers come to execute you. Walk up to the front of your cell so that we can communicate better."  
  
"Easy talk for you!" Heath called back. "My hands are tied up!"  
  
"They are?" Wil unconsciously glanced at his own wrists, even though he knew quite well that they were not tied up. "Well, neither Lucius, Priscilla, nor I are tied up in any way. Do you have any idea what you're tied to?"  
  
"Well... well... no..." Heath struggled against the bonds. "But whatever it is, it's driving me nuts. Augh..."  
  
The other three people sighed. Priscilla continued to look around, trying to recognize people, but she couldn't see too well in the dim light. She could make out a lock on her cell door... wait... "Does anybody else have a lock on their cell door?"  
  
"Of course there's a lock on our cell doors," Heath snorted. "If there weren't, we'd be able to escape, right?" He struggled some more, and his stomach dropped when he heard a moan directly behind him. "Did... did anybody else hear that?"  
  
"Yes, we did. It's most likely somebody else coming to," Lucius said. "Good thing, maybe that person will have something sensible to say..."  
  
"It's coming from directly behind me..." Heath reported, turning his head desperately to see what it was, but his armor prevented him from looking anywhere further than a 90-degree angle from forward. "I can't... see what it is..."  
  
"Ngh... Ow... flux that Quill kid..." a voice said, and Heath froze stiff. "How many Nosferatu spells did he use on me, anyway? I feel like I'm going to puke..."  
  
"L-l-l-..." Heath didn't seem to be able to force that one word out of his frozen lips. "...Legault...?"  
  
"Hm?" The voice asked. "What is it?"  
  
"I... you... what... why..." Heath, for the first time, rubbed his hands against whatever they were bound to, and shivered in fright when he felt out a pair of hands.  
  
"Stop rubbing my hands," Legault grouched. He usually woke up grumpy, and the extreme drainage of energy didn't help brighten his mood much. "It feels awkward."  
  
"Get used to it," Heath growled back. "My hands are tied to yours."  
  
"They're _what_?" Legault's cloudy mind registered the digging feeling on his wrists, and didn't bother to struggle against them. "Shit."  
  
"That's too bad," Wil sighed. "Since Legault's a thief, he might've been able to pick these locks and let us out of here."  
  
"That's it!" Lucius exclaimed. The other four heads turned to him. "That's why they tied him up! So that he wouldn't be able to pick the locks!"  
  
"Why'd they have to tie him to _me_?" The sentence nearly sounded like a whine, and Heath regretted asking it in that tone of voice. "They could have just as easily tied him to something else!"  
  
"Well... I don't really know why they tied him to you, okay? I'm not them!" Lucius cried, frustrated. He sat himself down and rested his chin on the back of his hand, sighing. "I still want my Aura book back."  
  
"Yes... and I want my personal space back," Heath mumbled.  
  
Wil sneezed.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
I'll end it right there, because it was starting to sound like a rant. (To my ears, anyway.) I'm sorry everyone was so out of character, but it was for the sake of making it corny... and yeah. I don't know whether to start with the castle, where everyone is going to sleep, or in the cells, where everyone is waking up and being tormented by one of the bad guys, or to go to the bad guys and see what they're doing. Why don't you people choose, because I really don't know what to do next. (Sigh...) Castle, cells, bad guys?  
  
(Kicks Renault a million times)  
  
I think by now you people know the drill. If you don't, well... reviews make me happy, and in this case, help me decide where to write about next; flames are accepted (although this privilege is not to be abused, a-HEM); I know Amethyst Bubble's on vacation, but another chapter in her now blissful story would help, too.  
  
Oh, I almost forgot! There are now two people in the 'Kick Renault' Listing:  
  
RianneHime  
  
Amethyst Bubble  
  
I'm such a lazy bum, I should go work on that... (Sweatdrops) Have a nice day. (Kicks Renault) 


	6. I got someone I can talk to

I've been slacking on this story! (Grins) Don't ask why I'm happy; I'm not. I've been working on this new inspiration attack I've had lately, and I still didn't really know where to start this chapter when I wrote it because nobody helped suggest anything. (Cries) At least the story is liked, so my simple, puny mind is satisfied.  
  
Okay, I've been fussing over some of the characters too much. To RianneHime, no, I am not going to kill any Fire Emblem characters in this story. I am not that sadistic. (Peh.) And, to R Amythest- See? I said it was corny. I just knew it. I'm working on making things less corny in this chapter, but with what my friend has been telling me about one of her fics lately (one that she's trying to make corny...) I guess some of the corniness from her is rubbing off on me, and it's making me depressed, 'cause I don't really like writing corny stuff.  
  
Disclaimer: You know, before I registered for FanFiction.net, I always wondered why all those fanfic authoresses would make muses say their disclaimer for them. Maybe it's cause they get bored or something, I still really don't know because to me it's all just slavery, but... I'll just say it myself. I don't own Fire Emblem, and just so people don't get confused, the bad guys don't really exist in the game. (At least not in my knowledge.) But, of course, nobody is getting confused, unless somebody's not telling me something, so I don't know why I am not starting the fic. Fic. Fic-kuh. Ick. Fuh-I-Ck. Reading Animorphs, Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill is hilarious. (Did I spell his name right? &% Andalite names...)  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Chapter Six  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Another arrow struck the small circle carved in the tree, splitting the previous arrow in half. Rath reached inside his quiver for another arrow, but his hand groped thin air. He angrily slipped the quiver off and slammed it into the ground, grunting and muttering several inappropriate words. Then, once again silencing himself, he picked several branches off the ground, whipped out a dagger, and started carving out new arrows from the slim sticks of wood. He was thinking back to that hour, shortly after breakfast...  
  
_Rath walked around the hallways of the castle, lost as he sometimes was in large castles. He couldn't say he was used to the open plains of Sacae, like Lyn, Guy, or Karel, as he hadn't exactly spent all his nineteen years in the 'savage' country, but he definitely never got along well with twisting hallways and confusing corridors. He turned at every corner and looked around for any signs of familiarity, but nothing was recognizable. Just when he was thinking about jumping out the open window to get away from the maze, he heard some people talking.  
  
"Yes, just you and me now, hm? I think this will be quick and easy."  
  
Rath had one boot on the windowsill, but took it off and instead crawled up to the open door that the voices were coming from. A loud cracking sound shook his eardrums, but he refused to make any noise in case the people inside were enemies.  
  
There was laughing, then the same voice again. "My... what an amusing fellow, you are. What is your name?"  
  
"You think I'll tell you?" came a vaguely familiar voice. Rath strained a little, but couldn't recognize the voice due to the strain and struggle that it was coated heavy with.  
  
"Oh... you mean you won't tell me? That's too bad." There was a strange cracking noise, softer than the one earlier, and suddenly the struggling sounds that the other person was making stopped. A moment of silence, then the cold voice spoke again. "Hmph. There goes my victim..."  
  
Rath tensed. Whoever that struggling person had been, it was most definitely someone from the army, and by the sounds of it, whoever had been antagonizing him was not. Rath strung his bow, ready for combat. "Stop where you are." He stepped in front of the open door to get an aim for his target, briefly noticing that the person was picking up a huge chunk of ice, and fired at him. The arrow pierced the person's shoulder, almost causing the person to drop the statue in pain.  
  
"Who are you?" The person demanded. Upon closer inspection, Rath could see the style of his cloak and the title of the book he was carrying: 'Fimbulvetr'. By the stance, the nomad concluded that the person was a sage.  
  
At first Rath didn't register the question, but when he figured it out, he didn't feel like answering it. "... I have no reason to tell you."  
  
The sage looked positively ticked at his defiance, but it didn't look like he was going to unfreeze the poor person frozen in the chunk of Fimbulvetr. "Well, if you don't tell me, then I'm going!" He rudely shoved past Rath and jumped out the open window Rath had looked at earlier. Rath looked at the window, though he didn't know why, before he stepped into the room. It was a mess; there was some ice on the walls, the rugs were tossed all over the floor, the tapestries were swinging, an arrow in the wall, and a broken bow on the ground, next to a rug. Rath walked closer to the bow, once again feeling recognition, and looked at it. He was shocked and surprised at the same time when he saw the color pattern and dent marks on the bow. He knew that bow well; it belonged to his combat partner, and fellow student. Wil.  
  
He pounded the ground angrily, putting the logic together. "... ... They've got Wil... ..."  
_  
Rath was still pulling his hair out over that memory. He had been right there, just outside the doorway, and he hadn't done anything. He could have stopped that sage; he could have knocked the captive he knew was Wil out of his hands, anything! But instead, he had stood there and let the criminal escape, just like any other corny story that had been written in Elibe in the last twenty years.  
  
Mild pain shot up his arm. He looked at his hand. Because he had been so wrapped up in his memory and anger, he had cut his finger. He sighed, dropped the half-formed arrows, and walked toward the castle. _Maybe I should go see that merchant_.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Eliwood was walking through the bedroom hallway, knocking on every occupied room to make sure everyone was doing okay. He closed the door for Jaffar's room, shaking and starting to regret his idea of checking on people, due to Jaffar's reaction when he had asked.  
  
_"Good evening, Jaffar," Eliwood said, in his usual voice of authority. "No problems on preparation, I assume?"  
  
The assassin looked up, and Eliwood's heart sped up in fear. The hint in the assassin's eyes were so determined and angry, they might as well have had a neon sign saying, "I am the Angel of Death and I want to kill those morons slowly and painfully." Jaffar had been sharpening his Killing Edge before Eliwood walked in, and he held them up threateningly, as if to tell the young lord, "Come any closer and I'll use you as a test run."  
  
"Okay..." Eliwood said slowly, closing the door as gently as he could.  
_  
Eliwood shook his head and took deep breaths. Then he opened the next door, bracing himself in case it was another angry person. It was Ninian and Nils.  
  
"Ninian! Nils!"  
  
The two turned their heads toward the door, and Ninian suddenly looked down. Nils patted her on the back and whispered something in her ear, ignoring the deep blush slowly creeping over his sister's face.  
  
The fear quickly disappeared when Eliwood saw those two. He smiled at them. "So are you prepared for tomorrow's likely battle?"  
  
Ninian nodded shyly, and Nils elbowed her lightly. She looked up. "Ah... I mean, um... yes..." She gave Eliwood a small smile before looking away quickly. Nils rolled his eyes.  
  
Eliwood nodded, dense as hell about women. "That's good. We might need both of you in the next battle."  
  
Nils jumped. "Both of us? Why?"  
  
"Well," the young lord started, "It's something I discussed with Lyn and the tactician. We both agree on the idea that it would be useful if one of you could help out the army while the other one of you goes to help out the captives. Several of them might need extra energy to get out of here."  
  
Nils nodded. "I see." He whipped out his flute and tapped the holes, warming up his fingers. "Then I guess I should prepare myself, too."  
  
Ninian nodded quietly. Nils elbowed her again. "I... I mean... I should... prepare myself also..." She grabbed her scarf and smoothened it.  
  
Eliwood looked puzzled. "Didn't you just say you were already prepared?"  
  
"Oh!" Ninian turned redder. "Um... I mean... uh..."  
  
"She means she needs to prepare herself for the change of tactics," Nils quickly covered for her. Ninian nodded desperately.  
  
"Okay. Then I guess you're both fine." Eliwood smiled again and walked out the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
Nils pounded on his bed. "Ninian! You didn't tell him! You said you would!"  
  
"I'm sorry... I just... I just couldn't..." Ninian mumbled. "I don't like telling people personal things..."  
  
"Either you tell him or I tell him!" Nils threatened, and Ninian nodded. Then she got off her bed and practiced her dance; the one she had created just for the young lord.  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Wil sneezed, sighed, and sneezed again. "I'm getting kind of bored. Isn't this usually the time when the bad guys pop in and make their arrogant speech about how we'll never escape?"  
  
"Yes, I think so," Lucius agreed. "When do you think is the part when they try to kill us, only to be stopped by a superhero who makes a speech about justice and righteousness?"  
  
Wil shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't even know what the bad guys look like, or if they're actually human."  
  
"Nobody does, so far," Lucius shrugged. "I never thought I'd be so bored as to hold an idiotic conversation like this one, did you? It seems everybody is bored right now."  
  
"Nope and yup," Wil answered. Priscilla had decided to try reciting the Thunder spell, just to make sure she had remembered it. She wasn't even going to attempt trying to learn the wrist movements or the stances yet; she was still a level seventeen troubadour, for crying out loud, but when Erk was giving her a short review, he had thought it convenient if she got a head start. Heath had fallen asleep, and Legault was humming a lullaby that quickly drove Lucius and Wil crazy.  
  
In the cell next to Lucius's, somebody yawned. Wil and Lucius looked over at it half-heartedly, already knowing who it was. "Rise and shine, Serra," Lucius commented.  
  
Serra groaned. "Ooh, I've got cramps everywhere, and... _ick!_ Was I sleeping on the _ground?_ Yuck! This isn't a way to treat a delicate beauty like me!"  
  
Many people sighed at Serra's normality. Serra crossed her arms and did a daily "Humph!" Then got right to business, which was not like her. "Oh! Lucius, I picked up your Aura book. You dropped it when they hit you, and I hid it, just in case they were going to disarm you." She reached behind her scarf and pulled out the tome.  
  
"My Aura book?" Lucius smiled. "Thank you, Serra..." The cleric handed the book to him, and he opened the front cover, looking at what was written on the inside cover.  
  
_For Lucius; With Love From Raven_  
  
Lucius's smile widened, but in a sad sort of way. "L... lord Raymond gave me this..." He closed the book and hugged it close, careful not to wet it with tears. Wil and Serra looked at him sympathetically.  
  
"That's why you were so worried about losing it," Wil nodded. "Yeah, I guess I would have been like that if..."  
  
He stopped talking, and Serra leaned as close to Wil's cage as she could get. "If...?" She asked, smiling widely.  
  
Wil glared at her in mock anger. "Oh, you be quiet. It's none of your business." He made a slapping motion in Serra's direction and fiddled with his Longbow. "Well, since everyone's weapon has been given to them by someone they care too much about," he looked over at Serra, "Did your _Erky_ give you that Heal staff?"  
  
Serra blinked. "Erky...?" She scratched her chin, looking like she was thinking hard. "Who's that...?"  
  
Wil shook his head. "You know, your nickname for Erk. You always call him that, everyone in the castle hears when you do." The archer winced at the memory of Serra's loud voice. "Come on, stop playing dumb."  
  
Serra shrugged. "Okay... whoever you're talking about."  
  
"... You know, Serra, you're really _bad_ at playing dumb."  
  
The pink-haired cleric looked insulted. "Hey, no I'm not! Stop insulting me, Nino!"  
  
"Eep!" Said the voice. Then, a few moments later, the same voice spoke again, except several octaves lower. "Um, I mean, I'm not Nino. I'm Unc- um, I mean, I'm Legault."  
  
"Very funny, Nino," said the real Legault. "I'm right here."  
  
"I know," sighed Nino in defeat, using her own voice. She jumped down from the top of the bars and landed next to Legault and Heath, startling the thief. "I have been spying on you long before you woke up." Then she offered an innocent smile to expand her life span.  
  
Legault growled. "I would like to know why you would spy on me, how the hell you're able to spy on a bloody _thief_, and why you're in my cell and not your own."  
  
Nino's eyes rolled up to the top of the cell, thinking. "Hmm... Well, I like to spy on you because it's fun, and I was able to get into your cell because of that gap over there." She pointed, and Legault squinted at the direction she was pointing at. It was a small gap in the bars, where some very strong prisoner must have bent in frustration or in a foolish attempt at escape. "It was a big squeeze, but I was able to get from my cell to your cell."  
  
Legault nodded. "You still haven't answered my second question." He leaned over at her and glared. "How the hell are you able to spy on a bloody _thief?_" He repeated, to ensure clarification.  
  
Nino held up her hands and grinned. "Sorry, confidential information, but you'll thank me later." She scrambled back into her own cell and smiled innocently again, causing Legault to growl in frustration.  
  
It was a good think that Nino had gotten back to her cell, too, because at the moment the door opened. Wil stopped bickering with Serra, Lucius looked stopped trying to resolve their conflict, Priscilla stopped reciting the Thunder spell, Heath woke up, Legault stopped growling, and Nino kept smiling. Her smile didn't last long, though, because she recognized the person who walked through. "You," she spat venomously.  
  
The assassin that walked through the door looked toward her direction, eyes widening. "Oh, it's you, that young mage," he said. "I'm sorry I strangled you; are you okay?" He shifted the weight of whatever he was carrying over his shoulder. It was hard to tell what it was, because it was covered in a blanket. Lucius looked over at Nino and mouthed something that looked like, _'He strangled you?'_  
  
Nino nodded, glaring at the assassin. "I was being friendly to him, and he grabbed me by the neck." She rubbed her neck, which was starting to get sore just from looking at the assassin. "I don't think it'll matter to you, but I was _fine_ before you came in."  
  
The assassin nodded, ignoring the last four words. "That's good to know." He took out a key from his belt, unlocked a cell next to Wil's, and gently dumped whatever he was carrying from his shoulder to the cell. He unrolled the blanket and took out a pillow, a set of clothing, and a sword case with a sword which handle didn't match.  
  
He walked out of the cell and locked it again before going over to Nino's cell. "Hey, I'm really sorry, it's just something I had to do. I would have been gentler if I could, but... all the other methods I could think of were probably worse." He motioned over to the cell he had just unloaded in. "I didn't make you bleed into unconsciousness, like Cylt did to that poor guy. Cylt's just a polite sadist." He reached a hand through the bars and smiled. "I already introduced myself to you, but I don't think you heard me that time. I'm Scourge. What's your name?"  
  
Nino glared at his hand, resisting the temptation to just pull it in and set it on fire. "I'm Nino," she answered bluntly.  
  
Scourge nodded. "Nino, got it. Don't worry; we are not going to kill you. We've let you keep your weapons, although we didn't have an extra Light tome for your monk friend," he looked toward Lucius. "Sorry."  
  
Lucius shrugged. "It's okay, I got my book back anyway."  
  
Scourge nodded again and turned back toward Nino. "I'll come back and bring you all dinner in a few minutes, okay?"  
  
The assassin walked out the door and shut it. Nino snorted. "Dinner, ha. Probably just some stale bread and dirty water."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Scourge rushed into the kitchens, startling the myrmidon and bishop that were cooking in it. "Hey, could we have a buffet today? Just, you know, to celebrate the successful launch of Phase One of Mistress's plan."  
  
Cylt looked at Mint, who shrugged. "That's fine," Mint agreed. "It sounds like a nice idea; besides, I'm a little tired from all that excitement today. It would be nice to have a big, tasty dinner."  
  
Cylt took out a cookbook from the shelf next to the oven and flipped through it. "I wouldn't mind cooking a little more than usual; the recipes here are so easy and fun." He stopped on several pages, licking his lips. "And delicious."  
  
Scourge smiled and nodded. "Yes... and its free time, right? Like usual?"  
  
Mint poked Scourge in the bellybutton with the handle of a ladle. "Obviously. It's not like much has changed. You can eat in any part of the castle."  
  
Scourge nodded faster. "Of course. Thank you!"  
  
Mint tapped the ladle against a pot, which was currently brewing a stew. "Hmm... what about the victims? What will they eat?"  
  
Cylt motioned over to a basket. "I can feed them. It's all the bread I found left over from yesterday's breakfast. As for what they drink, they can have something from that pitcher." He pointed to the pitcher next to the basket of bread.  
  
Scourge was still nodding, but not as eagerly as before. "Okay. Glad you have that taken care of. I can't wait until dinner!" He smiled cheerfully and waved. "Well... see you two later, I guess."  
  
---------------------------------------  
  
Okay, I think I'll stop it there. I know Serra, Lucius, Nino, Rath, Legault, Heath, Priscilla, Wil, Eliwood, Jaffar, Ninian, and Nils were out of character in this chapter, and I'm sorry! (Boo hoo hoo) The next chapter is going to start with where the eight 'victims' are, unless I get another inspiration attack and decide to write about the castle where everyone else is. I don't think this will end up with Eliwood/Ninian, but it probably will have some one sided Ninian/Eliwood.  
  
A note: I will be gone from July 3rd, 2004 and will probably be missing for about a week, so don't expect a snappy three-day update (like on chapter four).  
  
Amethyst Bubble hasn't updated yet! (At least, not when I'm typing this.) That's okay; once again, if you haven't read 'The Troubles of Matchmaking', please do so, and if you have read it already, please go read RianneHime's new story, 'The Case of the Stolen Heart'. It's only got about three reviews, and I really think it deserves more. It's a great story, with the same humor, great quality, and advanced vocabulary that makes me shrink away. You see, my vocabulary stinks, and that's just another thing I envy RianneHime for. GO READ HER STORY.  
  
Oh, and please review. (Smiles) I can't say I'd be sitting around waiting for them (because I'll be camping somewhere), but I'll still love reading them when I get back. I'll go work on that one-shot now. 


	7. This is Chapter Seven I SWEAR

So, right now I'm writing this in Notepad, because this computer  
doesn't have Microsoft Word. This is going to need a lot of getting  
Used to; after all, now I have to press 'enter' after every row I   
type; if I don't, the paragraph will run off the window and it'll be  
hell trying to read. Arrgh . . . do I need a beta now, to proofread  
everything in case I made spelling or grammar mistakes?  
  
Okay. Well, I am still on vacation, but I'm writing this anyway. Just  
because you're all such wonderful people. (hugs reviewers) I don't  
have internet access right now, so I'm going to miss reading your  
reviews (over and over again . . .) or reading your stories (over and  
over again . . .)  
  
Oh heck. I need to start the story now. So, it's the usual; I don't  
own Fire Emblem, though I do share a shrine with RianneHime that is  
still developing. Argh, I don't even own that by myself. Not that I  
really care; RianneHime even listens to my Wil-ish rants! (like the   
one I'm making right now!) Okay! On with the story!  
  
----------------  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
----------------  
  
Nino sat and waited, former plans of matchmaking currently forgotten.  
She was still angry at Scourge for strangling her, even if she was  
still alive and in better condition than a lot of the other people in  
the group. She traced circles on the rough ground underneath her. One  
of the circles, she noticed, was shaped a little like Scourge's head.  
In fury, the young mage lit the circle with a bright blue flame.  
  
Everybody else ignored her as best as they could, for most had their  
own problems. Heath, for instance, had finally gotten over being tied  
to someone he had just barely become friends with, but was now  
frustrated over how he was going to eat.  
  
"Legault," Heath stated almost lazily. The thief craned his neck at  
him. "Why is it that I have to starve to keep you from picking the  
lock?"  
  
Legault shrugged. "You know what, we're prisoners. We're not exactly  
resting first class here. You have to starve, I have to starve too."  
  
"I guess." Heath shivered. "Lucius is lucky; his cell is warm. I think  
the breeze blows into ours." He glanced out at the single window at   
the end of the room, its purpose unknown for the lack of light it  
provided; it was also much too high up for any human being to see out  
of. The breeze did indeed blow into Heath and Legault's cell. Heath  
shivered again, and Legault finally took pity on the wyvern rider.  
  
"Heath, if you're cold, you could lean a little back," The thief offered.  
  
Heath raised an eyebrow. "I doubt this will do anything," he said, but,  
desperate to achieve warmth in any way possible, obliged.  
  
"Okay..." Legault looked at Heath, and a few gears turned. "Turn to the  
side a little."  
  
"Like this?" The green-white head rolled to his side, and Legault had   
to lean slightly back himself to help the other man with his actions.  
  
"Yes," Legault grunted slightly, as he scooted a little closer to the  
binds to make things easier. "Okay, now... if I step on you, I'm-"  
  
"Ow!" Heath winced as Legault accidentally sat on his hands.  
  
Legault's eyes widened slightly. "Sorry!" More gently this time, he  
continued to loop his arms through his legs, and with much sliding and  
many 'Ouch!'s from Heath, Legault managed to slip his tied up hands  
from his back to his front. "You can sit up now."  
  
He glanced at Heath's back, and for a moment, his lips formed a   
Matthew smile. "Heath? Sit still and don't panic, okay? Bear in mind   
I'm doing this to warm you up."  
  
The green-white head bobbed up and down, though it's owner was having  
some second thoughts. "Wait, what is that tone of voice implying?"  
  
Legault stood up slowly and walked until he was standing in front of   
Heath. The wyvern rider looked away; if he looked straight at Legault,  
he would have a good view of . . . well, ahem.  
  
Legault sat down, bringing his tied-up arms around Heath's body, and   
his smile broadened. "Here, almost done." The thief slowly rested his   
chin against the other man's left shoulder, pressing himself against  
him in the process. "Mmmm . . . warm enough for you . . .?" he asked.  
  
Heath could have sworn his heart skipped a hundred beats. He sweated a  
little at the close contact and gulped a little, perfectly aware that  
he was helpless in this situation. He hated being helpless, even with  
allies, but . . . without really knowing why, he leaned closer to the   
thief. "Meh . . . too warm for me . . . but . . ." He paused to take a  
few deep breaths; for some reason, he was having trouble breathing,  
"But . . . I don't . . . mind . . ."  
  
"Mmmmm . . ." Legault closed his eyes in satisfaction, momentarily   
forgetting everything but the other's heat against him.  
  
From across the room, Wil and Serra were looking over at the certain  
cell that contained the two. "Um . . . Heath? Legault?" Wil leaned a   
little more, trying to see into the darkness of the cage. "What ARE   
you two doing in there?"  
  
Heath jerked back in embarassment, and let out an equally embarassing   
yelp as an equally surprised Legault fell on top of him.  
  
Of course, Nino had heard Wil's comment, and had decided to check on   
those two. She squeezed through the gap in the bars for the second   
time that evening and lit a small fire in her palm, which she held up  
to light the cell. She almost extinguished the flame with her laughter,  
and listened as Wil and Serra gasped in surprise and horror. And, she  
had to admit, it was a rather odd sight.  
  
Heath was lying on his back, hands tied behind him and face hot enough   
to boil a pot of ice. Legault was lying on top of him, with his arms   
wrapped around his cellmate and the side of his head planted into   
Heath's chestplate.  
  
"C . . . c . . ." Serra stuttered, showing a rare sight of being lost  
for words. "C . . . could you do that . . . some other time? L- like,  
when nobody else is around?"  
  
Legault sat up quickly, dragging Heath up with him. "We weren't . . .  
it wasn't what it looked like!" He sputtered, therefore being very   
un-Legault-like. "Oof!" he added when Heath landed on him and they fell   
over all over again, this time in reversed roles.  
  
Nino crawled back into her own cell and giggled again, although this   
time the other two joined her.  
  
Luckily, Heath was able to slip his own arms through his legs, as  
Legault had done, and pulled this friend up with as little strength as  
he could, in case they toppled over again. The purple haired man locked  
eyes with him and sighed. "It's going to be hell trying to sleep."  
  
The door opened and the awake people glanced at it again, but a  
different person walked in, and this time it was Priscilla who tensed  
up and sent a glare.  
  
"Good evening, poor victims!" The young man cried, genuinely cheerful  
at the glum looks and groans from his salutation. "I'm Cylt, and I'll  
be your host today for . . . you'll never guess what . . . DINNER!"  
He thew a loaf of bread into every cell with precise aim and placed   
the pitcher of water at the closest cell, which happened to be Serra's.  
"You can pass the water from cell to cell," he intructed. "And if you  
victims run out of water before the pitcher reaches the last person,   
well," He threw back his head and laughed. "That's too bad for you!"  
He walked out of the room, still laughing. "Have a nice dinner!" he   
cracked, and shut the door rather loudly. Everybody moaned, and several  
of them inspected their bread.  
  
"Ungh. This horrible bread is worse than the mushrooms I had to eat  
prior to meeting Matthew," a male voice called out. "And while I'm   
complaining, Why am I wearing this red-white tunic, and why does my  
head hurt like hell?"   
  
Wil looked over to his left and squinted. "Guy?" He watched as the   
Sacaen bit into his bread, chewed resentfully, swallowed, paled by   
many shades, and fainted over. He stared at his own piece. "Is   
anyone sure this stuff is safe to eat? He just took a bite, and   
fainted over."  
  
Everyone held their bread at arm's length upon hearing this news.   
Luckily, the door opened once more, and Scourge's familiar head poked  
in. "Hey!" the assassin panted, scurrying inside and closing the door  
softly behind him. He carried so many items in his arms that the   
people close by (Serra, Nino, Lucius) began to wonder how he had   
managed to walk. He dumped the items gently on the ground and sorted   
them out. Nino watched in disbelief as he handed dish upon dish of   
delicious quality food and several bottles of beer to different cells.  
  
Serra even licked her lips and said, "Now, this is food worthy of an  
elegant beauty like me!" and dug in as soon as Scourge handed her a   
fork.  
  
"Great!" Heath grunted. "Now the question returns; how are Legault and  
I expected to eat if we can't use our hands?!?"  
  
Scourge walked over to their cell and took out a ring of keys. He   
inserted one of them in and unlocked the cell, then untied the bonds   
holding the two together. Heath and Legault both rubbed their wrists,  
and Heath finally smiled for the first time all day. "Finally! I can-"  
  
He was inturrupted by a snapping sound, as Legault's hands were chained  
to the back wall and locked. Legault's eyes flashed with anger. "So I  
have to starve?" He demanded.  
  
Scourge looked guilty, and glanced over at Heath. "Green-head," he   
addressed. "What's your name?"  
  
"Heath."  
  
"Okay," Scourge pointed at Heath, then pointed at Legault. "Heath, you  
can feed him." He walked out of the cell and locked it again, ignoring  
the look of disbelief on Heath and Legault's faces.  
  
"Wait," Lucius said, interrupting the other people's lunches. "What do  
we do with the bread? I mean, if they come back and see that we haven't  
eaten the bread, won't they get a little suspicious?"  
  
Scourge froze for a few moments, during which time the silence was   
filled with a sneezing fit (courtesy to Wil). Then, a little   
reluctantly, held out his hands. "Give the bread to me. I'll eat it."  
  
"What?!" Every person (awake) yelled, disbelieving.  
"I saw what happened when Guy ate the bread!" Wil warned. "He only took  
a bite and fainted over!"  
  
"That was expected," Scourge stated plainly. "He is to be treated   
gently during his waking moments; any overflow of emotion will cause  
him to tip over. The bread is spoiled, but it won't kill me."  
  
After hearing the explaination, everyone hesitantly handed their bread  
to Scourge. They all watched as he held a piece of bread to his mouth   
and took a bite. His face scrunched up as if he had just eaten a   
lemon, but he swallowed the mouthful and took another bite. After he  
finished the bread, everybody was convinced he wasn't going to topple   
over anytime soon and went back their own food (or, in Heath's case,  
back to both his and Legault's food).  
  
"This is good."  
  
"Mmm, hmmm."  
  
"Finally! A meal worthy of my beauty, as I must say again!"  
  
"Achoo!"  
  
"It's good, I guess . . ."  
  
"Why do I have to feed Legault?"  
  
"You think you have it bad, Heath? At least you can eat by yourself,  
and not have to suffer through this humiliation."  
  
"You think this isn't humiliating? Huh? Huh?"  
  
Scourge choked on the piece of bread he had been eating and looked over  
at Heath and Legault's cell. " Will you two shut up? If you're too   
loud, the others will find me here!" He paused, and as an afterthought,  
added, "And I know it sounds very dumb, but you two argue like a   
married couple."  
  
It was the thief and wyvern rider's turn to cough, and cough they did.  
  
----------------  
  
The next morning, Lyn, Eliwood, and Hector woke everybody up early.   
Some of the late sleepers weren't too happy, but they didn't complain,  
for it might have cost them several things. Hector paced around the   
army and glared at certain people who still looked tired; Eliwood was  
giving a pep talk to some of the people from Pharae; Lyn was sitting   
on the rug and looked as if she were planning some strategy. It was   
not a happy morning. There were also some shocks; for instance, when  
Matthew walked into the room wearing a black cut top, or when Rath  
started practicing sword techniques in a far-off corner. Merlinus  
complained about the Hero Crest and Guiding Ring that had gone missing  
over the night. The scariest part was that the girls finally noticed  
that Sain had left them alone for an entire day.  
  
After a long time, Eliwood finally cleared his throat, and everyone  
looked at him. He looked to Hector, who stopped pacing and went to   
stand to his right, and to Lyn, who got up and stood to his left.  
Eliwood faced his audience again and spoke. "Okay. So far, we don't  
know how to get to the 'Hidden Fort' that the abductors talked about.  
So, does anybody have ideas as to how we could find our way there?"  
  
Several murmurs were heard as different members of the army discussed  
tactics of tracking or searching. But as the talking stopped, nobody  
seemed to have been able to come up with a plan. Eliwood looked from  
person to person, hoping that someone had an idea, but his hope  
evaporated when nobody seemed to know what to do. He sighed. "Alright.  
So maybe we could just search the land for them. A fortress shouldn't  
be that hard to find."  
  
The army groaned, as the task sounded long and tiring.  
  
-----------------  
  
". . . Of all the people, why did I get stuck with you?" Matthew  
complained as he watched Karel jump from one patch of grass to another.  
". . . You could at least help search."  
  
Karel glanced at his searchmate as he rubbed a blade of blood-  
splattered grass. The former theif looked very spooky now. Not only did  
he dress in a tight cut-top and wore his cape on the back instead of to  
the side like before, but there was a sort of haunted look in his eyes-  
it made the once-cheery man look creepily like Jaffar. The way he spoke  
was also similar; quiet and calm, with only a hint of the old Matthew.  
  
". . . Well?" Matthew walked to where Karel was. ". . . No matter how  
many times you rub it, it's still going to be a blade of grass . . ."  
  
Well. Some of the old Matthew was back. "It has blood on it." Karel   
continued to rub the blade of grass. "By the smell, the same blood as  
from the tapestry yesterday."  
  
". . . What did you say?" The assassin behind him asked. ". . . Say   
that again. . ." He was now kneeling next to Karel, staring blankly at the  
grass as if it would help him find the Hidden Fort.  
  
"I said it has blood on it."  
  
". . ." Matthew whapped him on the head. ". . . After that. . . about  
the tapestry? Is it . . . from the tapestry. . .?"  
  
"Yes," Karel stated bluntly, as if it were obvious. "Would it come from  
a different source, with this smell?"   
  
With amazing speed and strength the Sword Demon didn't even know   
Matthew possessed, the other man lifted him clean off the ground and   
shook him. "Is there any more of that smell here. . .?"  
  
"How did you know?" Karel clearly was shocked. "There is a long string  
of this smell, trailing across the grass, almost like a path."  
  
Matthew almost dropped him. The assassin stared, wide-eyed, into  
Karel's face, then put him down and ran toward the castle. ". . .Stay  
there. . .!"  
  
-----------------  
  
"Any luck?" Hector asked as he met up with Lyn and Eliwood. "Did   
anybody have any clues that might help us find the Hidden Fort?"  
  
"Not yet," Eliwood replied worriedly. "I'm starting to think we'll   
never find them. . ."  
  
Lyn shook her head and placed a hand on the redhead's back. "Don't say  
that. It may be too early to give up just yet. I'm sure we'll find   
something."  
  
Just after she said that, Matthew appeared. Hector's eyebrows went up.  
"What is it, Matthew?"  
  
". . ." The assassin looked to the direction he had run from. ". . .  
Karel says he smells a trail of blood, Sir Hector. . ."  
  
"Yes, yes, what else is new? Stop wasting time and go search- "  
  
"You don't understand, sir. . ." Matthew interruped. ". . . Karel says  
it's Guy's blood. If. . . if he was indeed bleeding, he would have left  
a trail of blood as he was taken to the Hidden Fort. . ."  
  
Matthew watched as this information sunk in. Hector's expression   
changed from frustrated and angry to happy and hopeful. "Man, am I glad  
I hired you two," he stated, and turned to Lyn and Eliwood. "Tell   
everyone to move to. . . where were you two searching, anyway,   
Matthew?"  
  
Matthew pointed silently at the training fields. Hector nodded. "To the  
training fields, and to meet us there!" He ran after Matthew back to   
the training fields to meet the army.  
  
-----------------  
  
Gaaaaargh, so there. (sweatdrop) Some action. . . sort of. Don't worry,  
I'll bring the real Matthew back later. This Matthew creeps me out.  
(shudder) I'm sorry I took this long.  
  
And, I want to say again to get off my back on spelling or grammar   
mistakes, okay? (glares suspiciously at Auriyu) If anyone corrects my  
grammar or spelling, I'm sending them an email with 'prat' written all  
over it. (growls) And I think Karel might have been out of character. Oh well.  
  
And hopefully, this is going to be the only chapter done on Notepad. I   
am almost positive that the next chapters will be on Microsoft Word.  
(Or that new program my mother's computer has.)  
  
Review! Review! (sings a song) RianneHime, Amethyst Bubble, post--!!


	8. You're always there

Hokay! I am back. . . sort of. I really appreciated the tips on Notepad from the last   
chapter! Although they were sort of repeated by about three readers. . . but I   
don't care! It's nice to know people care enough to tell me. (Huggles reviewers. . .   
for the umpteenth time. . .) Sadly, this chapter was done in Notepad again, because I   
was at my uncle (a real uncle)'s house and forgot to bring my artbox, and this   
computer either has Notepad or this weird program that won't let my type any   
apostrophes.  
  
Also, I was looking through Seventh Sage and Amethyst Bubble's profiles (again. . .)   
and I got jealous of their adorable muses. So. . . I'm giving myself some muses!   
  
Quill: Hey! Get me out of this thing!  
  
Scarabsi: Nope! You're. Staying. In. Here.  
  
Quill: But! But! I'm fine with being here, but why'd you have to bring PAGE, too?  
  
Page: I resent that comment!  
  
Quill: Why would you care? I say stuff like that all the time!  
  
Page: No, you don't! Get back here so I can pick your pocket!  
  
Quill: But. . . I already picked yours! (Holds up sack of gold)  
  
Page: . . .!! How in the world did you get your sloth hands on that!  
  
Quill: Well, you left it in your front pocket. . .  
  
Scarabsi: . . . I have a serious sense of deja vu. . . that only RianneHime can   
understand. . .  
  
Page: What did you tell RianneHime? Huh?  
  
Scarabsi: Well. . . I sent her the supports that she has with you.  
  
Page: What?!? What did I say? What did SHE say? What? What?!?  
  
Scarabsi: . . . What would be the fun in that?  
  
Page: . . . You SADIST!!  
  
Scarabsi: That makes three of us. . . (glares at Page)  
  
Quill: Three? (counts) But. . . you and Page make two.  
  
Cylt: (In some corner) Yes! Bleed! Bleed that beautiful crimson of yours!   
Kukukukuku. . .  
  
Scarabsi: And you call HIM? (points to Cylt)  
  
Quill: What! You brought HIM, too? He'll kill us all!  
  
Scarabsi: No, he won't!  
  
Quill: And why ever not?  
  
Scarabsi: Because he doesn't have time to! This thing is already too long!  
  
I don't own Rekka no Ken. Unless I make a character called Ken or something. But, of   
course, that doesn't count.  
  
----------  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
----------  
  
The field was vast and empty. Though he never actually knew what 'vast and empty'   
meant, it seemed to fit in a field like this. It was huge and empty. . . just him and   
the grass. . .  
  
He shuddered. He was back home, just where he didn't want to be. Not before he had   
reached his goal.  
  
He took a few steps forward, and to his amazement, the grass melted, and dried leaves   
and soil took its place. Trees sprouted everywhere, turning the field into a dense   
forest.  
  
He only had a second to admire this amazing phenomenon before daggers shot from the   
trees. Panicked, he jumped several feet backward, and the scene melted again, this   
time turning into a dirt road. Grass grew on the side of the road, and there was a   
tent. A single, simple, innocent-looking tent.  
  
He stared, astonished, as he received a serious sense of deja vu. He tried to   
remember where he had seen this scene before, but, all of a sudden, a terrible pain   
shot up from his stomach, traveling all over his body and sucking all the energy and   
strength out of him. He thinned considerably, and, due to these sudden changes, fell   
over, unable to support his own weight any longer.  
  
By now, this definitely seemed familiar, but he didn't even bother to remember why.   
He felt a horrible feeling that he had dreaded for a year- hunger. He was starving to   
death.  
  
The last thing he saw, or heard, was a man, kneeling over him. He could only make out   
a twisted grin, as the man gently picked him up, and a voice.  
  
"I think you might come in quite useful."  
  
-----  
  
Guy opened his eyes, slowly, and quickly closed them again. 'It was only a dream. . .' He noticed, grimly, that he had a bad stomachache, and groaned softly. 'Great,' he   
thought. 'The last thing I need after a dream like THAT is a fluxing STOMACHACHE. . .'  
  
Then, his sensitive sense of smell picked something up. He sat up quickly, causing   
his head to spin, and he mentally cursed again. Then, he eagerly kneeled over to the   
source of the wonderful fragrance of food. When he found it, he almost fainted again.   
"Who. . . who brought this food?"  
  
"You're awake!" came a voice he didn't recognize. He looked out of his cell. . . and   
panicked. A cell? Why was he in a cell?  
  
"Wh- who are you?!" Guy stuttered to the stranger. Someone to his right laughed   
softly, and someone in front of him giggled softly. He looked to his right, then to   
his left, confused. "Wh- what's so funny?"  
  
"You are, Guy," said the person to his right. Guy relaxed. . . about three hairs.   
That voice was familiar, at least. It was Wil. "You always have to overreact to   
everything."  
  
"That could serve as a problem," came the unfamiliar voice, worriedly. "Does he have   
sensitive emotions?"  
  
"Not that sensitive," came another familiar voice. Lucius! He was here too! "He's   
just a tad too nervous sometimes."  
  
"I dearly hope you don't have any mounted units, Scourge!" said a female voice, in a   
familiar volume. "Poor Guy would be scared to death!" Serra. Great, who else was in   
this insane place? And, a name. Scourge? What an odd name. . .  
  
"Who- who else is here?" Guy asked, still a tad nervous. He suddenly realized he had   
a hand on his head. He removed the hand, and his head felt like it split open. He   
cried out in pain and put his hand back, feeling a thick liquid flow on his fingers.   
"Wha- what happened?!"  
  
"Oh, no no no no no!" said so-called Scourge. "Don't do anything to your head!"  
  
Guy nodded. "I sort of figured that out myself. . ."  
  
Scourge sweated nervously. "Your head. . . is it still bleeding?"  
  
"Bleeding?!" Guy absentmindedly took his hand off his head again, and the pain   
restarted. "GAK! Yes it is!" he hurriedly shouted, when the smell of blood filled his   
nostrils. "Oooooouch!"  
  
Scourge quickly clapped his hands together and spread them apart, and in between his   
palms, a staff with a huge blue aura appeared. He handed the staff to Priscilla. "  
Quick! Use this on him!"  
  
Priscilla looked at the staff questioningly. "What is this?"  
  
"It's a Psychic staff Mint gave me just in case this happened! Now use it!"  
Priscilla nodded and chanted the spell for Psychic, thanking Pent for teaching it to   
her the other day. The staff glowed blue, and several spheres floated out of the orb   
of the staff and over to the cell across from her.  
  
Guy's yelps of pain stopped, leaving him breathing heavily. Scourge walked over to   
his cell, and pushed the stolen food over to him. "Here, eat. It will make you feel   
better."  
  
"And don't worry," came a calm, smooth voice. "Even Heath the paranoid ate it, so   
it's not poisoned or anything."  
  
"EVEN Heath?" a new voice replied, unmistakably Heath's. "EVEN Heath? What IS that   
supposed to mean?"  
  
"Exactly like it sounds, my darling Heath," said the calm voice.  
  
Guy nodded, trusting Heath's paranoia, and shoveled the food down his throat with the   
inhuman speed of a swordmaster, sprouting six arms.  
  
"Well," Scourge smiled, "At least he seems to be fine now." He got up from Guy's cell   
and walked over to Heath and Legault's cell. "As for the married couple, I'll have to   
tie you two back up."  
  
"What?" Heath asked, even though he had heard clearly. "Why can't we just keep him   
chained to the bars?"  
  
"Because being chained to you is more comfortable, my darling Heath," Legault   
replied, rolling his eyes. "Being chained to Karel's Wo Dao is more comfortable than   
these bars."  
  
Scourge shook his head, laughing at the two who always seemed to be bickering, and   
retied Heath and Legault. Though, this time, Legault insisted on having his hands   
tied to the front, and Heath, not trusting his back to be facing Legault's front,   
wanted the same, so Scourge had to tie them face-to-face.  
  
Scourge looked at the window high up on the wall, and his eyes widened. It seemed the   
window served some purpose after all. "I have to go now," he explained, quickly   
locking Heath and Legault's cell and walking to the main door. "At this time, I'm   
supposed to be in the East Wing, discussing battle tactics. Stay healthy, and don't   
kill each other," he instructed, looking worriedly to Heath and Legault's cell as he   
said this. Then, wishing luck on the victims, closed the door and hurried to the East   
Wing.  
  
-----  
  
A mercenary smiled as a great black bird flew toward him. He held out his arm, and   
the bird landed on it. He stroked its beak and it closed its eyes in happiness. "I   
knew you'd be able to find him, Peti. Now, if the pacifist moron will show up. . ."   
The mercenary leaned his back against the wall and crossed his arms, looking over to   
the stairway. "Scourge is late to every meeting. . ."  
  
"Oh, stop plummeting him, Varin," Cylt scolded, raising an eyebrow. "It is likely he   
has a reason to be late."  
  
"Yes, but late EVERY time?" Varin's eyes rolled over to the ceiling, studying the   
elaborate details of a painting that decorated it. "Seriously, one would think that-"  
  
"Sorry! I'm here! I'm here!" The entire group looked over at the staircase as Scourge   
climbed it, skipping two steps at a time. "I didn't mean to be late!"  
  
"Sure you didn't," Varin said doubtfully, earning a light punch from Cylt. "That's   
what you say every time you're late, which is, let me count. . . oh, every time we   
have a meeting?" Another punch, this time harder.  
  
"It doesn't matter whether he's late or not," Mint said, casting a disapproving   
glance at the mercenary and myrmidon. "What matters is that he is here. Now, what   
were we called here for?"  
  
"The mistress called us here. . ." Rade jumped from a blending place in the ceiling   
and landed soundlessly next to everyone, startling all except Mint. ". . . Because   
the target is approaching."  
  
"Oh, please," Scourge said, laughing nervously. "Why must you refer to them as   
'target's? Why not use their rightful names, Eliwood's Elite, Lyndis' Legions, or   
Hector's Horde?"  
  
"Must you always be so critical about how we treat our enemies?" Rade mumbled,   
sighing. "Anything else you would like to complain about?"  
  
Scourge shook his head, slamming his mouth shut, and Rade continued. "The mistress   
has sent orders to separate into three groups- one to 'guard' the entrance, one to   
'guard' the cells, and one to 'guard' herself." He looked over at the small group of   
seven, eight including himself, and his eyes stopped at Mint. ". . . I would like to   
keep you all alive, so please. . . take care of yourselves."  
  
Everyone nodded, looking at each other, and Rade looked from one person to the next,   
deciding who to send where. "Page, Quill."  
  
"Yes?" Quill answered nervously. Page merely looked over at the mention of her name.   
Rade pointed over to the general direction of the front door, the only entrance to   
the Hidden Fort (excluding Page's hidden passageways), and looked back to them. "You   
two will guard the front door, and ambush the targets when the arrive." Page nodded,   
while Quill stood frozen for a while. Rade sighed. "Okay, forget that plan. Page, YOU   
ambush the targets, and Quill, you will serve to distract them so that they won't   
suspect an attack from another direction."  
  
"Got that," Quill nodded.  
  
Rade looked over at Point and Mint. "Mint, you stand by with a Heal staff in case   
they get hurt. Point, you will guard Mint, in case he is found."  
  
Immediately, Mint started to protest. Rade, as though he had expected this, spoke over   
Mint's soft complaints. "Mint, I am sending a guard to you because I want you, most   
of all, to stay alive." He stared into the bishop's eyes, and Mint's protests died   
down to some incoherent words under his breath. Mentally, Rade smirked to himself,   
but his expression remained ice as he looked to Point. "Point," he started, and the   
sage looked up. "Don't fail."  
  
Point nodded, and walked next to Mint to get ready. Rade looked at the remaining few   
people. "Scourge, Cylt, you two are the most familiar with the cells- you two will   
guard the cells."  
  
The two nodded in understanding, Cylt's mouth forming a twisted smile, and Scourge's   
eyes taking a worried feel again as he looked over at the myrmidon.  
  
Rade walked over to Varin. "And, it seems like it's going to be us 'guarding' the   
mistress," Rade said, and Varin smiled wickedly.  
  
"Perfect," was the only word that came from the mercenary's lips.  
  
-----  
  
". . . What is going on?" Karel asked, as Matthew returned with Hector at his heels.   
"Has something happened? Has someone found a clue?"  
  
Matthew looked blankly at the Sword Demon. ". . . You have found our clue. . ."  
  
". . .When?" Karel thought back, but couldn't remember anything that even resembled   
finding a clue to the Hidden Fort.  
  
Hector knelt down and examined the grass at Karel's feet. "Where is the blood trail?"  
  
Karel blinked. "Down here. . ." he knelt with Hector and traced a finger over the   
blood trail. "It runs from a window in the castle to the other side of the field, and   
goes on."  
  
Hector nodded, though he didn't look like he was paying much attention. "Okay, so   
what are you waiting for? Follow it!"  
  
Karel was, by far, even more astonished, if possible. Lord Hector was letting- okay,   
forget letting, he was FORCING him to follow a trail of blood! Something happened.   
Something really happened. But, then again, Karel did really like blood, so. . .  
  
". . .Well. . .?" Matthew asked, sending Karel an icy glare. Karel narrowed his eyes   
into slits in return, and started walking along the trail of blood, noting with   
suspicion that Hector and Matthew were following. What was going on? In fact, that   
sounded like a good question.  
  
". . .What is going on?" Karel asked, stopping a little to look over at Hector.  
  
Hector, who was not one for dramatic suspension, threw his arms up in the air. "What   
do you think is going on? We're going to the Hidden Fort!"  
  
"We are?" Karel looked around, just in time to see the rest of the army walking to   
the area. ". . . Alright, then. How can we get-"  
  
Hector pushed him down. "Just keep following the blood trail!"  
  
"What? But you just said-"  
  
". . . Our passage to the Hidden Fort lies in your bloodstained hands. . ." Matthew   
told Karel, sounding depressed. ". . . We'll never get there. . ." he sighed to   
himself, slapping a hand to his forehead.  
  
"What?" Rebecca asked, who had arrived at the scene and heard Matthew's quiet   
comment. "We're relying on KAREL to get there?"  
  
Nils appeared next to Rebecca, and agreed positively. "What are you?" he demanded.   
"Nuts?"  
  
"Though it would be rather rude to say so," Kent said, appearing next to Nils, "I am   
sorry to say I agree with Nils on this."  
  
Hector slapped a hand to his forehead, mimicking Matthew, as the entire army started   
talking all at once. He glared at them all and let out a frustrated growl. "Will you   
people just be QUIET?!" he boomed. The entire army suddenly became mute. Hector took   
a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds, before opening them again.   
"Okay," he said slowly, as if either talking to an infant or to someone not   
particularly smart. "I am going to say this. . . slooowly." He pointed to Karel.   
"Karel, the Sword Demon, as you know, will be leading us to the Hidden Fort by   
following," he knelt down and drew an imaginary line across the grass, "A blood   
trail, in the grass," he finished slowly. Then, as if he wasn't shrinking their   
intelligence enough, he added, "A pretty blood trail that likes you. It wants to be   
your friend."  
  
"Hector," Eliwood said, arriving at the scene, "I don't think that last comment was   
necessary."  
  
"What?" Hector asked, shrugging. "They weren't comprehending anything we were trying   
to explain!"  
  
Almost on que, everyone started asking questions all over again at the same time.  
"But what does a blood trail have to do with getting to wherever we were going   
again?"  
  
"I think this place has finally broke the last thread and gone insane. Really, why   
are they relying on a blood-thirsty Sacaen to lead us there?"  
  
"Oh, Elimine! Will this really work? Will it? Will it?"  
  
"According to past incidences involving the loss of blood or the usage of bloodshed,   
I conclude that using a trail of blood to lead us there will get us no farther than a   
tree branch."  
  
Hector whipped out his axe and slammed it into the ground to vent out his   
frustration. He slammed his axe many, many times.  
  
Matthew kneeled over to a now very confused and offended Karel and whispered in his   
ear. "Karel, if we follow that blood trail, we can find a lot of noble, heroic,   
legendary people for your sword to cleave in half. . ."  
  
Karel's frown turned upside down, and widened. "I will go, then." And he took off   
after the blood trail, a determined Matthew and a confused army trailing after him.  
  
-----  
  
Sorry about the messed-up formatting again. I put it in that retarded program to spell check it, and it got re-formatted, so. . . # I'm fairly sure the next chapter will be in Microsoft Word. And if you don't believe me. . . FINE!! sniffle  
  
There's no doubt this time, this time Karel was the OOC character from HELL. Dammit, there is NO way he acts like that. Nope. Zilch. Nada. Why do people say that, anyway? And, to Karel fans, I'm extremely sorry, and I would get him in better character if I could, but I don't have him. I got Harken. (DIE HARKEN!!)  
  
Thanks to R Amythest, because she's so funny and nice and fun to talk to, and thanks to Rianne, just 'cause, and thanks to Miserikordi for being such a great email buddy. And everybody keeps me writing. Even though it's in a messed up format these days. In which I will kill the Notepad from hell and try to bring Microsoft Word to my mother's laptop, so that I may write decently there. And pray to St. Elimine that I will be able to make decent-looking character portraits someday. (Miseri and Riaki will know what I mean.)  
  
Thanks for reading (if you did. . . but if you didn't, you wouldn't be reading this line, would you? I have a bad habit of confusing myself. . .)  
  
Quill: Hey! Why don't you all re- mmmph!  
  
Scarabsi: (hand over Quill's mouth) What the hell are you doing?!  
  
Quill: Telling the nice readers to review.  
  
Scarabsi: No, you dolt! Remember rule #1 about being a muse? Huh?  
  
Quill: (looks down and sighs) "Absolutely no muse is allowed to say the disclaimer or tell the readers to review under normal circumstances. Any muse caught doing so will be unemployed, and another muse will take his/her/its place."  
  
Scarabsi: That's my boy.  
  
Quill: So now what? What are we here for if we can't say the disclaimer or tell readers to review?  
  
Scarabsi: Don't you know what a muse is? A muse is someone who inspires the writer/author/fanfictionist to write, not do their story chores for them!  
  
Quill: But- but- all the other muses get to say the disclaimer or tell readers to review!  
  
Scarabsi: Because those aren't real muses, those are slaves. Do you want to be a slave, Quill?  
  
Quill: Yes!  
  
Scarabsi: . . .  
  
Uhm. . . yeah. I have an odd and stubborn muse there. So, if you didn't get the idea, please-  
  
Quill: PLEASE REVI- (is dragged away by Page)  
  
- review. (sweatdrop)


	9. When there's no getting over

Well . . . I was just really amazed. That's more reviews than I've ever gotten- even more reviews than that stupid story that I now hate that had nineteen chapters . . . There is not much I can think of to say about this. Ugh . . .

I am now aware that script format is no longer allowed at Though it is nice to be able to get rid of those weird stories that are written in script format that don't really have a good solid point, considered 'humor', it will be a hassle to try putting in my muses. I thank R Amythest for pointing this out to me.

Quill comes into the chapter, not as cheerful as he usually was. His usually wide muse eyes were narrowed a little, and his usually grinning mouth was now pulled down a little on the corners. "Come on, Scarsi!" He complained, using his nickname for the authoress of this story. "We don't have to, do we? We don't have to speak in story format?" He wrinkled his nose a little in disgust, his small frown deepening a smidge. "I keep getting these tremendous urges to revert back to my character form. It is very hard to do my usual cute musings while I am forced to speak in this way."

The authoress pats him on the back and tells him that it would be all right and that he would get used to it. The shaman-in-training merely shrugged, then looked up at her with hope in his eyes. "Does this mean I can say the disclaimer?" He asked eagerly, smiling a little to increase his chances. The authoress rolls her eyes and tells him that he's an unusual muse, and that he is still not allowed to say the disclaimer or tell the readers to review, so his eyes start watering a little. "But! You said under normal circumstances! Is this the normal circumstance from now on?" Then, trying to catch the authoress off guard, he suddenly added, "Scarsi does not own- "

But, of course, I didn't let him finish that sentence. I do hope someone pulls that duct tape off his mouth soon . . . He has to do something in this chapter, and we can't have his mouth taped up . . . And I don't own Fire Emblem. So ha, you stupid lawyers. (kicks them) (kicks Renault)

-----

Chapter Nine

-----

The army had arrived at the Hidden Fort, though at first they couldn't see anything. Karel had led them straight to the middle of a large clearing in a forest, and everyone looked about, confused, for the fort. But, Kent noticed some scratches on several trees, and they inspected them.

"What is this?" Eliwood asked, running a finger along one of the scratches. "It looks like a sort of mark from a weapon. . ."

"What do you think that might mean?" Lyn wondered, peering a little closer at the marks.

Just then, some of the ground at the very center of the clearing rippled a little, and a boy rose slowly from it. His dark purple hair fluttered a little, though there wasn't any wind, and his light and dark blue robe slowly emerged with the rest of his body. He levitated several inches above the ground, to add dramatic tension, before he snapped his burgundy eyes open. As he did so, all the grass in the clearing seemed to blow away from him, forming another ripple-like appearance.

The boy suddenly grinned, ruining the entire effect. "I _always_ wanted to do that!" He said in a clear juvenile tone of voice, and as he said this, he started swaying. "Whoa!" He fell down hard on his behind as his levitation spell dissolved, completely destroying what was left of the dramatic tension. He grinned sheepishly at the army as he picked himself up.

Eliwood raised an eyebrow. "Uh. . ." He peered at the boy. "Who. . . are you?" He asked politely, leaning toward the young face.

The boy smiled. "I'm Quill! The shaman-in-training from Hidden Fort!" He ran in a circle around the place he had appeared from. "Wow, you people really are here, just like Rade said!"

"The Hidden Fort?" Many people's faces suddenly scrunched up at the boy as Eliwood said this. "You're from the hidden fort?"

"Uh, huh!" Quill nodded. His grin dissolved, and he held a finger to his chin, as if he were thinking. "Oh, yeah. . . I think Rade also told me to send you there!" he laughed. "I mean, you've made it this far, but I'm guessing you don't know how to get there, do you?"

"Eliwood," Lyn said cautiously, leaning toward the lord's ear and speaking in a whisper. "You must be careful, and you mustn't let your guard down, even to a child. He has already admitted of coming from our enemy- be careful, or we might walk into a trap."

"I know that," Eliwood whispered back, before speaking to Quill again. "Quill, how many others are there in the Hidden Fort?" He questioned, hoping that the little kid was naive enough to give away the numbers of the army.

"Oh," Quill smiled, "Point said you'd ask that. There aren't that many people, actually- there's me, obviously, then there's my sister Page, and my big brother, Point, and the thief, Rade. And none of them are really that good at fighting. Why, just this morning, Rade was made fun of by a little rabbit he had tried to hunt to increase his speed!"

"That's it?" Eliwood was more than a little startled by this. "Just you four? You did all this?"

Quill nodded, making sure that nobody in the army could see his crossed fingers behind his back. "Yep!" Then he leaned closer to Eliwood's ear. "But, don't tell Point I told you! He'd be very angry with me!" he whispered.

The ground rippled again, and another figure emerged from the ground about the same way Quill had, only this figure was a young girl. Her hair and eyes looked almost exactly like Quill's, but she was wearing a light green cape, a dress in the same shade as the leaves on the trees, and a sort of pendant around her head. She dressed like a mage, though she didn't carry any tomes. The girl frowned, then grabbed Quill by his light blue hood. "You idiot!" She hissed, though she was loud enough for the entire army to hear. "Why did you tell them how little we were? Now they won't have to worry! Why didn't you just lie and tell them we had an army of a thousand warriors or something like that?"

Quill looked worried. "Why? I mean, that man over there asked really nicely! And he didn't seem like he would hurt us at all!" He didn't even bother to whisper.

"Yes, but these people are actually our enemies! They're the people we started this whole thing after! Point told you to make them nervous by telling them they're outnumbered! Remember?"

Quill's eyes doubled in size, as he gazed in shock at the army in front of him. "What! But Page, Rade said they were travelers!" Then he realized that he had just raised the army's confidence in winning. ". . . _Purge_," he swore.

"And watch your tongue!" Page scolded. She paused. "And why do you swear by 'Purge', anyway? Everyone else says 'Flux'."

"I LIKE Flux!" Quill whined. "It's my favorite weapon so far! It's so light and inexpensive!"

"Could've sworn I heard Canas swear by Purge one time, too," Sain muttered to Kent. Kent shrugged.

-----

"So."

"What?"

"Up to anything lately?" Cylt peered at the assassin next to him, suspicion all over his face. "Nobody saw you anywhere during dinner."

"Well, this is a rather large place," Scourge reasoned. "And there aren't all that many of us."

"Yes, yes. . ." Cylt nodded, though his suspicion hadn't lifted one bit. "That would be a reasonable explanation. . . had nobody been _searching_ the _entire_ fort for you!"

Scourge seemed a little startled. "But nobody has." He turned his head to look at Cylt. "If they were, they would have said so. . ." Then he saw the anger in Cylt's eyes, and he leaned back away from him a little. "Whoa. . . you weren't THAT worried about me, were you?"

The myrmidon huffed, looking instead to the dungeons as they stepped down the last set of stairs. "I didn't say that."

Scourge smiled knowingly. "You _were!_" The assassin almost laughed as Cylt looked to the ground, growling. "See? You're not saying no! Sacaens like you can't lie!"

"Sh- shut up. . ." Mentioned Sacaen covered his face with a white sleeve, but the assassin could still see the little bit of pink blooming over his face.

Scourge would have laughed and poked fun at him longer, but he wasn't feeling well enough too. He suddenly realized that he had a stomachache, and a nauseating feeling was rising to his chest, and slowly going up to his throat. Paling a little, he sat down. "Guh. . ."

"What is it?" Cylt asked, finally looking toward Scourge- only to find him missing. He looked around wildly before his eyes were drawn to the ground. The assassin was crawled up on the floor; one hand placed over his stomach, one over his mouth. "Scourge? What's- "

"N- not. . . feeling. . . too well. . ." He closed his eyes and slowly stood up. It was the bread from that afternoon. He had thought he would have been fine. . . apparently, that bread was far worse than he thought it had been. He staggered over to the side of the wall and threw up.

Cylt jumped back. "Scourge! Are you okay?" He jumped over to him and donated several whacks to the back. His comrade coughed a little, spitting out remaining bits of bile, and waved a hand, as if to say he was fine. Then he threw up again.

The myrmidon continued to whack the other on the back, until the assassin told him to stop. "I'm sorry, Scourge. . . did I cook something rotten? I'm. . . I'm so sorry. . ."

"You didn't cook it." Feeling much better, Scourge walked to the other side of the small room and sat down. "But you did serve it. It was the bread you gave the captives. . . it seems to be more rotten than it looked."

"I. . . I. . ." then something hit him. "Wait! You ate their lunch? That. . . _that's_ why I couldn't find you! You were down here the whole time!" He looked at his comrade. "Didn't we tell you not to go down there? Are you listening to me?" No reply. "Hey! Are you- "

The assassin fell over, landing flat on his face, though no exclamation of pain came out. A gasp. "Sc- Scourge!"

-----

Heath awoke from his dream, though he did not open his eyes. He didn't really remember falling asleep, and assumed it was the cause of a full stomach. He shivered when he remembered his dream. Every face was hazy, but. . . he could make out a smile. A very wide, mysterious smile, and a lot of a certain color. . . he strained his memory trying to remember what color it was. Lavender. Where was the lavender, anyway? It just seemed to be. . . there. The person. . . what was he wearing? Or was it a she? He couldn't quite remember. And. . . where was he? Ah, yes, what was he wearing? This also took slight straining to remember, but it hit him suddenly, very hard- the person, whoever it was, hadn't been wearing anything. This came as a slight shock, as Heath desperately tried to remember whom it was, and he shivered again.

Then he noticed; he wasn't only shivering from the dream. His face felt like ice, and his arms, though he was wearing long sleeves, were cold as well. The armor he wore kept the rest of him warm, but there was one part of him that was especially warm, and it- or rather, they- weren't even covered with armor or even cloth- his hands.

The wyvern rider finally decided to open his eyes, and immediately wished he hadn't. His cellmate, Legault, had also fallen asleep, and was holding a rather firm grip on Heath's hands. Heath looked at his hands, to the long scar running down the calm, sleeping face merely inches from his own, and it was suddenly very, very warm.

Curiosity did kill the cat.

He tried moving his fingers. They wouldn't budge. "L. . . Legault. . .?" He continued trying to release his hands from his cellmate's, but as before, nothing happened. ". . . Uh. . ." Just great. Just _great._ What had he ever done to deserve this?

Well, as long as he couldn't do anything, he might as well get back to sleep. He closed his eyes again, and tried to think of something that would be boring enough to lure him to sleep, but after a while of trying to think of a subject at all, he found himself wondering why everyone had captured them to begin with.

_Nobody's told us anything. There doesn't seem to be a specific pattern to the ones that were captured. . . it wasn't a certain class, or a certain personality, or a certain ranking. Our classes range from a normal, everyday archer to a stuck-up cleric who never learned to shut up; our personalities go from someone who likes to rant and ramble to someone who almost never talks at all; our ranks go from someone picked off the streets to one of high and noble birth. So. . . why were we captured, and not the others? Would they not rather take one of our Lords prisoner? That would have given them much more power and fear than they have now. What is this really about?_

It was getting too warm. Heath opened his eyes again, and saw the last thing he expected. Legault. . . he had suddenly leaned into the wyvern rider's arms, and was starting to snuggle himself into a more comfortable position. The green-haired man twitched.

"Are you _really_ asleep?" He asked the ball of lavender hair, though he obviously did not receive an immediate reply. Though. . . it didn't feel all that bad. . . hmm. . .

His hands were getting sweaty. Legault didn't seem to want to let go anytime soon. To his own surprise, Heath didn't seem to care anymore.

Though it might have been comfortable to the scarred thief, the position they were in was starting to make Heath's neck and back hurt. It might have been from sitting in the same position, looking down, for such a long time; whatever it was, Heath tried to make himself more comfortable. He ended up scooting both of them to the stone wall, though the hardness of the rock didn't do much comfort to his head. He shifted his legs and bent forward. . .

Wait, that resulted with his face in Legault's hair. He didn't want that. . . did he? Come to thing of it. . . it was rather soft. . . And it smelled nice, too. A special, unique. . . Legault smell.

He'd remember that scent forever.

And now that he'd seen Legault's face close up. . . He could see every last bit of detail. The amazing scar being the lord of them all. But there were other small, tiny little details. . . the way the lips curled in many special ways, forming smiles that others could only try to match. Now that he thought about it, that smile- it was a very reassuring smile, for some odd reason. Others might have found it sneaky, or secretive; Heath could find a way to restate that. It was clever, and mysterious. When he had been so scared, afraid that someone had come to turn him in to his certain death, that smile was there. . . to calm him down.

And there was another use for those lips.

Almost as if someone else were doing it, he leaned closer to that face. Why was he doing this? Even he didn't know. It was as if he were in a sort of trance. . . feeling nothing but that tickling sensation in his stomach and seeing that lovely face. . .

"Everyone! Wake up! I'm going to get you out of here!" The voice sounded really tired, and upset for an unknown reason, as the sound of a door being slammed against the wall followed the warning. As if someone had hit him with Thunder, Heath suddenly sprung from what he had been doing. What _had_ he been doing? He didn't even remember.

Moans sounded all over the room. Serra got up from her position against the wall, rubbing her head; Lucius lifted his head up, loosening his hand off his Aura tome with a heavy blush; Wil picked himself off the ground, releasing his protective grip around his Longbow; Guy cracked one eye open, but made little movement; Priscilla sat herself up from the corner of her cell, as her cell had two stone walls instead of one; Nino had already been awake, practicing for another tome she had wanted for awhile. Legault's eyes fluttered open, and for a long second, it seemed as if he were disappointed about something, though what it was nobody could figure out at that moment. Then the look was gone, and he, like just about everyone else in the dungeon, turned their head toward whoever it was who had awakened them all.

It was Cylt. There were damp marks running down his cheek. . . he had been crying a little over something. He was still rubbing his eyes with one hand- the other was supporting another person. A limp Scourge. "Everyone. . . I have to get you out here. It's. . . what Scourge would have done sooner or later. He stayed here during dinner, didn't he?" Everyone nodded, and Cylt looked down. "I. . . I'm very sorry about that. Because I had been so cruel to people I did not know. . . I ended up harming a person I did."

The victims looked at each other, not really knowing what the myrmidon was talking about, though they didn't think about it for long. Cylt rested his assassin friend against the wall, then grabbed a set of keys from his pocket and started unlocking the cell doors. When he got to Heath and Legault's cell, he cut their bindings with his sword, though he stared for awhile at the small cut he had made on accident on the back of Legault's right hand before bandaging it up. He looked at several of the stronger-looking people in the small group. "Can. . . can someone here give me a hand? I'm. . . not strong enough to carry him. . ." He pointed to Scourge as he said this, and Legault picked up the assassin with one smooth gesture. Cylt uttered a thanks and looked to Guy. "You still need to wash all that blood off your hair. I guess you can wash your clothes, too, so you can change back into them." Then he paused, taking a moment to look Guy over, an odd smile appearing on his features. "Though, you really don't look that bad in my tunic."

"Yours. . .?" Guy looked down again at what he was wearing, and realized that it looked similar to what the myrmidon was wearing. "Uh. . . thank you. . .?"

Cylt scratched his head, laughing softly. "Sorry about that. Well, actually, it is some walk to the nearest stream, but we have a fountain somewhere. You can wash up there." He gave directions to the swordmaster, pointing occasionally to help with understanding. "It's a rather large room, and an awkward place to wash, but may lock the doors if you wish. If anybody comes by, they'll understand, and the only ones with lockpicks around here are Rade, Scourge, and Page. You don't have to worry about them."

Guy nodded. "Thank you." He picked up his blood-splattered clothing and the blanket from his cell, and looked at the other things in there, in case he might need anything. "My scabbard. . . you gave me a sword. Why?"

Cylt pointed to the person in Legault's arms. "His idea. He wanted to make sure all of you were treated as kindly as possible, and apparently letting them be armed was considered kindness. Then again," He shrugged. "It is dishonorable to disarm a helpless enemy."

Guy nodded. That really made sense- it actually sounded like something he'd say. He had probably said something similar to a certain thief before. . . He picked up the sword set and set off to look for the room Cylt had said. A Sacaen wouldn't lie, so he was confident that he would find the room.

As he left, Cylt turned toward everyone else, pointing different directions. "Some of you could go down to the West Wing- there are plenty of places to hide there, so it is unlikely one of my comrades would find you there. Others of you should go up the stairs, though you'd have to be more careful because that's where our bedrooms are. You can hide in mine- it's the fourth one to the right. And you could use Scourge's, too, if there isn't enough room, I'm sure he won't mind. His is the second to the right."

He continued to name off places to go, and they all nodded, trying to think of a place they would like to stay. "You should all decide where to go before leaving; if you split up, it's less likely that my comrades would find you all, and it would be easier for people from your army to find some of you."

Cylt ended the big Fort Tutorial with "Best of luck, on my honor as a Sacaen" and practically pushed them out of the dungeons. He exited the room and locked it, then raced up the stairs. "Scourge, I put you in the hands of the enemy, and I would only hope their hearts to be as kind as yours."

-----

A red-haired assassin jumped, just in time to dodge a large amount of dark energy. He uttered a word so colorful, some other people in the group gasped. Eliwood jumped away from another attack, and watched as Hector did the same. "Are you attacking us?!" He demanded, as the little shaman boy stood by innocently with his tome open.

Quill's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Oh, no no no. I'm trying to send you to our Fort, but you all keep dodging the energy to get you there!" He closed his book, frustrated, and held up the cover for everyone to see. The design on the cover looked unfamiliar, and even Canas couldn't recognize it. "It's a type of spell developed so that anyone can use it- even people who don't use magic." He pointed to Page, who had started casting the same spell. "It's called 'Send'- every occupant of the Hidden Fort is given one, if they're wanted back." He looked at the book cover, frowning. "Come to think of it, I don't even know how this strange method of entrance was created, but I think it was developed by the founder of the Hidden Fort or something. . ."

Just then, a spell cast by Page hit Ninian. She let out a short yelp as the energy wrapped around her, and the ground started rippling in a similar way as before. She sank into the ground, looked shocked and stunned, though she didn't scream or say anything. Nils was a different matter.

"N- NINIAN!!" He tried to grab onto his sister's arm and pull her back out of the ground, but she sank too fast, and was soon gone. Nils fell forward from the momentum of his movement, and sat there on the ground, looking angry with himself for having lost his sister for the third time.

"Actually, Nils," Lyn looked puzzled. "She didn't seem harmed at all. She didn't even scream or cough, or anything like that. I don't think she was harmed at all."

Quill slapped a hand to his forehead. "That's what I've been trying to tell you for the last few minutes! I'm SO glad you listen to me!" Sarcasm dripped from his voice.

-----

After an awkward silence, followed by an awkward argument, the army finally arrived at the Hidden Fort, followed by Quill, who looked a little frustrated, and Page, who was rolling her eyes. Quill caught Point's eye in a shadowed area of the room, and he made an odd sort of fist. Point nodded and pressed Mint against the wall.

"Mint, I want you to stay here. I know that stunt wasn't exactly what Rade told us to do, but it will work. We got the point across, and Scourge won't murder us for hurting innocent enemies. And don't do or say anything that might make them find you," he hissed, as Mint opened his mouth to argue. The bishop closed it, frowning, and glared at the mercenary group that was now walking through the Entrance room. He leaned against the wall, making as little sound as he could, and nodded at Point.

The sage gave him one last look, as if to say, "Don't get us killed," and walked ahead to block the door to the next room. He smiled hospitably, and hoped his armor didn't give him away as a sage. "Good afternoon, Lord Eliwood, Lord Hector, Lady Lyndis," he said in greeting, and the three lords stopped the army to look at him. "No need for alarm, I am here to show you around. My name is Point, and I'd like to welcome you to the Hidden Fort." With that, he opened the door and showed the army in.

-----

Quill walks into the author's notes, wearing the frown from earlier. "I was so out of character here!" He complained. "Even in my character form, I was still talking like my muse form. This is not fair." He crossed his arms and glared at the authoress.

Yes, he's right, actually. . . he was really out of character in this chapter. But, do you really care about him? Let's see. . . MORE ACTION!! YAY!!

And, about the carrying thing. . . actually, Cylt's only a who-knows-what level myrmidon, and he's only fifteen, as Guy is a swordmaster around level 20/9, and I don't know how old he is, but I'm sure he's older than fifteen. So, it was actually impossible for Cylt to carry him in Chapter Four. If you check your Swordmaster Guy stats, you can see his constitution is six. Cylt's constitution is probably around four, and his aid is probably something like three. So, he wouldn't have been able to carry Guy. (eyes swirl from all the thinking) Scourge's constitution is probably something like five. Ack. . . maybe you all shouldn't think about this for long. . .

I can't really think of much else to say. Oh yeah! About half of you guessed that Rade/Mint pairing. They're. . . not that obvious, are they? But if they are, well. . . nobody really confesses anything in this story, but maybe sometime off stage they might say something. So technically they are kind of together.

So please review, so that I know you read the chapter. (grins) And, Amethyst Bubble, please update something, anything! And Rianne, please post your next chapter. You're both really great, and I admire both of you. Flames are still allowed, though stupid ones will be frowned upon and sent an email asking why whatever was said. So until my next chapter, buh-bye! (Hah! I beat Quill to it!)

Quill is whining offstage about not being able to even say anything.


	10. That rainbow

Okay. I am finally back. Rianne thought I died. (Ooops. . .) Well, would you look at that! (faints)

Quill clicks on a link in Scarabsi's profile, and his eyes almost pop out of his head. "That's almost. . . Nine reviews! Ten if you count the two Lady Lyndis sent! Wow. . ." His hands drop to his sides, as he gapes at the screen in shock and almost horror.

Point comes over and waves his hand in front of Quills face. There was no response. "Whatever happened to, 'Where there's an action there's a response' from the authoress' seventh grade science textbook?" He turns to look at what the young shaman was staring at, and stepped back in horror. "That. . . that. . ." He rubs his eyes, then looks at it again, just to make sure he hadn't hallucinated. "Are. . . are my comrades that popular? Wow. . ."

Cylt is somewhere in the castle, banging his head against the wall. Nobody knows why.

Page sneaks noiselessly out of a Mona Lisa duplicate in the hall, then slams it so loudly and so hard the picture breaks. "What's going on? Why is everyone crowded in front of the computer?"

Point points to the computer screen, no pun intended. Page looks at it and scoffs. "Well, _obviously_ it was a typo. I mean, there's no way someone as lame as Scarsi could get nine reviews for just one chapter." And, always the pessimist, clicks 'refresh' on the Internet browser and climbs back into the no longer hidden passageway behind the Mona Lisa duplicate. "We'll see if the site fixed the problem by then." Then she looks at the ruined painting, and randomly wonders, "Where did this picture come from anyway?" And slams it again as she disappears.

Well. . . I'm being appreciated. . . and I really respect all you readers and reviewers. I especially thank Koriku. . . She really made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. And I could have sworn I wrote a review exactly like that before. She's stuck on Chapter Eighteen, just like I was for the last few months. (nods) And she's a rambler. Just like lil' Normal Writer #3.

Uh. . . there's lotsa jumping around in this chapter, so. . . sorry if it gets confusing. . . (sweatdrop)

Disclaimer: Uh, well. . . it IS a fanfiction, right? If it mentions Nintendo characters, I'm not going to say they're mine. I'm not that dumb. I hope.

-----

Chapter Ten

-----

Lyn looked at the young man that stood in front of the door. He had short blue hair. . . but his eyes were that same shade of burgundy, and that uniform. . . he was a magic user, definitely. The tome in his hand clarified that he was a mage. But, the way he was holding it. . . Lyn squinted, and leaned a little forward. She couldn't tell what tome it was. . . the book had been covered with paper, as a sort of book jacket. Well, this person definitely cared about his tomes. So this was Point, Quill's brother.

Point smiled and opened the door, holding out his hand in a gentlemanly manner. "Please, make yourselves at home."

Hesitantly, the mercenary band walked into the room. It looked like the dining room- there was a long table, and many chairs lined the sides of it. Candles were placed at the ends, and in the middle, and there were plates in front of every chair. There were about fifteen chairs, which surprised all three young lords, for they had expected the dining room to have only four chairs, one for every person in their small group.

_We have to be careful,_ thought ever-cautious Lyn. _This could still be a trap to gain our trust._

_This doesn't look good,_ was Eliwood's thought. _I better be careful; one wrong move may result in death._

_Folly, why all the manners?_ Hector wondered. _One would think to be rude and cruel to their enemies!_

Slowly and carefully, the three lords found a seat at the table, and the rest of the band settled down as well. There were two extra chairs, which Point carried away with a friendly smile.

"Rade will arrive in a few moments to discuss the matters of those captured," Point explained as he walked out of the room, leaving the attack team to wonder what was going on.

-----

"Where do we go now?" Wil wondered as he walked from one hall to another, from one room to the next. "Oh, no. . . I don't know which place will hide me better!"

"Just pick a spot already!" Serra said impatiently, pushing past the worried archer and picking a room. "Look, there's a big closet right here!" She walked into the closet and shut it, making sure the doors looked naturally shut.

"We'll remain calm." Lucius' voice was barely a whisper, and he sounded as if he were talking more to himself rather than his friends. "We will find a safe place to hide. We will live. We will not get hurt. We will not kill any innocent souls." He tightened his grip on his Aura tome. "Unless. . . unless they attack first. Violence should only be used as a self-defense."

Nino whined. "I should have left with Uncle Legault and Unc- I mean, Heath earlier! The bedrooms sound really safe now compared to this West Wing. . ." She opened a door and peered inside. "There's nothing. . . wait! Is that painting. . . hanging off the wall on a hinge?" She closed the door to the room and swung the painting open, revealing a small cubicle just barely big enough for her to squeeze inside. "This will do. After all, it's not as tight as those bars in the dungeon." She lifted herself into the cubicle and swung the painting quietly shut, hoping she wouldn't accidentally push it open again.

Wil finally decided to hide in a suit of armor in the hall, and laid his Longbow beside his now steel-clad feet, deciding that nobody other than the one who had given it to him would give it a second glance, and that having his weapon by his feet will encourage him not to move, as doing so would cause damage to it.

Lucius watched as everyone slowly chose hiding places, and if he had spun around three times, he wouldn't have been able to find them again. Which was a good thing, because that meant that the enemy couldn't find them either. He grabbed Priscilla's wrist and almost dragged her down the hall. "There has to be somewhere we can hide. . ."

He finally found a room with a lock, and stashed Priscilla in it. Then he looked around for a place to hide in himself, but the only places left to hide were suits of armor, and none of them would fit him. He looked from one end of the hall to another, panicked.

The Aura tome was starting to slip out of his sweaty hands. When he finally noticed this, the tome had slipped and hit the ground, falling open. Lucius wiped his hands on his hip-scarf and bent down to pick the book back up, but paused.

For Lucius; With Love From Raven 

He read this short line over and over again, the panic disappearing from his face, replaced by determination. "Well, if I can't find somewhere to hide, then I won't!" He picked up the tome and hugged it close to his chest. "You've always protected me. I cannot hide forever." Now more determined than ever, he took confident steps down the hall to where he hoped the enemies, or Lord Raymond, were. "This time, I will find you. And I will not allow myself to be captured again."

-----

Meanwhile, a flash of lavender, green, and sky blue, with a little of white in the green, rushed up the stairs, though only one set of footsteps could be heard. Heath frowned as he tried to be quiet, but it was hard to run soundlessly up the stairs and keep up with his companion at the same time. He wasn't trained as well for this kind of thing as the thief was. How he managed to be so fast, so silent, while carrying another person, the wyvern rider wouldn't know, but he was envious nonetheless.

"Could you please slow down a little?" He whispered to the dark blue cape that was tickling his nose. He obviously hadn't spoken loudly enough, or else Legault was ruder than he had thought, because that dark blue cape kept going at the same, fast pace.

Heath grabbed onto the slightly torn material and tugged lightly, so as to alert the thief but not send him tumbling down the stairs they were climbing. "Legault?"

Finally stopping, the man turned around, the corners of his mouth turned down. "Please, darling Heath, don't pester me. It is hard to run up these stairs quietly as it is, but now you're asking me to slow down. . . you whisper so loudly, too. If there is anybody up here, they could find us easily and trap us on the stairs, while we're helpless to do anything. If you want to be slow, fine, because we're going to the same place, anyway. See you at the top, darling Heath." His voice was so soft, Heath could barely hear it, but the point came across. Regretfully, he let go of the cape, and Legault continued running silently up the stairs.

"And stop calling me 'darling Heath' already. I don't know why you're calling me that, but whatever the reason, it's not funny."

-----

"We don't all have to stay here," Raven grumbled as he sat at the table, eying it like a piece of spoiled pork that he should cut up into tiny little pieces and burn in a bonfire. "Only some of us were going to talk to them, remember? I only came along to look for Lucius and Priscilla."

Others at the table nodded in agreement and looked over at Eliwood expectantly. He shrugged. "Well. . . if you can find your way around the fort. . ."

"It won't matter," Erk said, peering at the redhead lord through his hair. "We need to get anywhere we can to look for those captured, and after we find them, we will head back. If we can't find a way back. . ."

". . . We go through the emergency escape door," Matthew finished.

Eliwood arched an eyebrow. "Emergency door? I don't think they have an emergency door."

". . .I know." The blonde assassin cracked his knuckles rather loudly. "We're going to make one."

"Ah." The lord nodded. "Then you can go look for them."

Just after he said this, most of the party got up and left, while the ones remaining put their faces in their hands and waited for the thief named Rade to come and 'discuss the matters of those captured,' as that sage had said.

-----

_Oops. . ._

That looked like a wrong turn. And so did the other three he had taken before. . . the fort was even more confusing than he had previously thought. Several times he had come across a place he thought had been the fountain room, but a quick opening of doors and taking a quick peek inside told him otherwise.

He stopped by a torn painting of a lady with a nice smile, and wondered for a moment where it came from, and why the lady didn't have any eyebrows. Careless as he was, he continued walking with his gaze still fixed on the painting, which is why he hadn't heard or seen the other person down the hall until he walked into him.

_Who is this kid?_ Guy wondered, his hand flying to his sword handle just in case it was an enemy. _He must be part of this loony group. . . Canas is the only shaman in our mercenary band. . ._

The boy picked himself up and bowed his head. "I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. It was entirely my fault; I should have paid attention to where I was going. . ."

Guy blinked. "That's. . . okay. . . look, do you know where to find the. . . uh. . ." He suddenly remembered that Cylt had never told him the name of the fountain room. "The. . . uh. . . well, it's this large room with a fountain in it, and I can't seem to find my way there, so if you can help me. . . ?" His hand was still on his sword handle.

The boy put a finger on his chin. "Now that I think about it, I think I've seen you somewhere before. . ." Guy started panicking, and prayed that whoever this was wouldn't remember that he was one of the former captives. His sigh of relief could barely be held back when the boy continued speaking. ". . . well, wherever I've seen you, I don't remember. . . I don't think it matters, though. It's not like I or anyone I know kidnapped you or something." He pointed in a direction. "Actually, I just passed a large room with a fountain a few moments ago. I think that's the place you were talking about."

Guy nodded, and patted the boy on the head. "Hey, thanks. Someday, if I ever see you again, maybe I'll buy you a tome. What's your name?"

Burgundy eyes widened. "My. . . name?"

"Oh, nevermind." Guy started toward the door. "I'll recognize you if I ever see you again anyway. Thanks again!"

He ran to the door and looked inside. _Yes! This has to be it!_

A fountain was in the center of the room. Large. . . it was HUGE. He locked every door he could see and walked up to the fountain. "Wow. . . it's so huge, I won't even be able to hear anything outside. . . Well, it is locked, so I shouldn't have much to worry about."

He started undoing the belt around his waist.

-----

Eliwood waited. . . and waited. . . and had a short spar with Hector. . . and waited. . . and waited. . . and talked to Lyn. . . and waited. . . and waited. . . and watched Ninian dance for the army. . . and waited. . . and waited. . . and wrote a letter to his mother. . . and waited. . . and waited. . . and waited. . .

The door slid open, and a dark blue-haired young man walked in. Half of his face was covered by his hair, but the side of his face that was showing had a scar that ran from and inch next to his left eye to the edge of his chin, with two more shorter slashes running through it. He wore a large cloak that concealed most of his body, so it was hard to tell what the young man was carrying.

The man pulled up one of the empty chairs and sat down. ". . . Good afternoon. I suppose my good friend Point led you to your seats already earlier and treated you to lunch already. Yes?"

"Um. . . actually," Eliwood looked at his empty plate. "We haven't touched a scrap of food all day."

The man placed a hand on his forehead and shook his head. "That irresponsible joker. . . I knew he'd forget." He snapped his fingers.

Several seconds later, Page rushed through the doors. The man looked around, but nobody else showed up. "Page, where is Quill?"

The only female kidnapper shrugged. "I don't know. I looked for him, but I haven't seen that useless moron anywhere. What do you need?"

Shaking his head again, the man sighed. "Well, it seems your other moron brother forgot to serve our. . . guests. . . lunch. May you please bring out the food?"

"I will." Page turned around, mumbling something that sounded like _but Point has to carry all the heavy plates._

"Terribly sorry about that," the man apologized, though he didn't sound too sincere. "Having only three comrades, all of whom share the same lineage. . . you do tend to get irresponsibility and arguments more than necessary, do you understand what I mean?"

"Pardon me for asking, but. . . are you the thief Rade that Point mentioned?" Eliwood asked.

"I am." Rade held out a hand and Eliwood shook it stiffly. "I suppose you would like to know if we're returning your captured friends. Or at least what you can do to get them back."

"Actually," Lyn politely cut into the conversation. "We were really wondering why you took them to begin with."

Rade's gaze turned to the half-blood. "Funny that you are the one to ask," he said, his voice growing colder than usual. "Because, ironically enough, the reason we took them. . . is _you_."

-----

THERE!! (pants) It's been about a month since I posted, hasn't it? I hate myself. (kicks self) (stabs Renault with a silver spork) 

The authoress braces herself for a long ramble from her head muse, but nothing comes.

Hmmm. That's odd. Uh. . . (looks around suspiciously for Quill) . . . REVIEW! Please! The last horde made me so happy. (grin) AMMY CAN UPDATE NOW!! PLEASE AMMY!! (grovels)


	11. Where's Rianne?

Well, whaddya know? 10 chapters, 100 reviews. I've surpassed my goal of 50 reviews two times over. I just. . . can't believe it. Rianne's prediction was right. (stares blankly at review count and suddenly hugs her computer) I LOVE YOU ALL!!! (crying)

"There, there, now!" Point says, suddenly appearing at the authoress' side and pats her on the back. "No need to get too emotional!"

Okay. So. . . Seventh Sage asked who Legault was carrying up the stairs. . . (sweatdrop) I'm sorry. . . That was from the last chapter. If you're not sure yet, I'm telling you in this chapter. . . Don't hurt me. . .

And, hey! I know I haven't updated in months. Go ahead and flame me if you like, but please be a gentleman (or lady) and flame properly. If you don't know how, read OFURNK. (shrinks away into some dark corner of a random sand castle)

Also. . . people have been complaining that nothing is happening anymore. (sweatdrop) I'm going to try to make something happen; you don't mind POV switching, do you? This chapter goes through a shocking amount of flashbacks, and please blame me for my lack of creativity. The flash is written in italics, and I know it's annoying to read, but bear with me please. . . _please_. . . and the point of view will be written. Page's flash is not exactly relevant to the plotline, it just has more examples of the mistress's personality and a little bit of past. So if you don't care, you can skip it. Hell, you can skip ALL the flashbacks if you want, they're not that important. . .

Enough rambling- Characters of Fire Emblem 7- Rekka no Ken belong to Nintendo. OFURNK belongs to Vyctori.

-----

Chapter Eleven

-----

The three commanders of Eliwood's Elite took a long look at Rade. They waited, but the thief merely rested his chin against the back of his hands. Hector, who was really not known for patience, finally halted the silence.

"What do you mean, she's the reason? You mean you schemed up this whole baloney because of _her_? What did she ever do to you?" His heavily armored arms swung as he did this, gesturing to the confused Lyn and the unfazed Rade.

Rade slid a hand over his right eye. "You do not understand. It is not that she has done something to me. . . she did something to. . . a friend of mine." His eyes darted over to Lyn, though his head did not move. ". . . Do you, by any chance, remember the name. . . 'Lord Lundgren'?"

All of a sudden, Lyn's face turned a shade paler than it had been, and Eliwood and Hector looked to her, confusion written all over their expressions. At last, Lyn opened her mouth. "What. . . was my granduncle to you?"

"Granduncle?"

Rade completely ignored Hector's questioning word. "It matters not what he was to me. . . the truth is that he is gone now, and you were the one who took his life." A knife suddenly appeared in his hand, and he spun it with incredible speed. "So now you will pay the price."

Another knife appeared in his other hand, which he spun with equal speed. And, just like that. . . he disappeared from his seat.

"What. . . ?!"

Flashes of the large cloak fluttered past as Rade appeared on Lyn's left. . . a second later, on her right. An 'X' shaped cut opened up on the half-blood's back, but as soon as the pain started to register, it stopped. The cut, and the material for her clothes that had been over the cut, formed back to its normal state, completely healed.

Lyn placed a hand onto her back, eyes wide. That had been frightful, even for someone with as much experience fighting as her.

Rade landed on top of the table in a crouching stance, throwing his cloak aside in a more cape-like fashion, revealing the twin dagger cases strapped around his waist, and the short, short shirt he was wearing, similar to the one that Matthew had recently acquired.

"I am an Etrurian assassin, Rade. And I have been sent by my Mistress to assassinate Lady Lyndis."

-----

**Rade**

_The woman looked at me. I kept my eyes to the ground, not wanting to look at her face. I knew, I knew- if I looked at her, then something horrible would happen. Not that anybody had ever told me, oh no. But, she did not reveal her fighting class, and what is there not to suspect about that?_

_I could hear her brushing her hair behind her. Yes, _heard_, because this woman has an odd tendency to exaggerate many of her movements. Her long, thick, smooth hair, a sleek blue-green-orange color. . . though I did not know why this was possible. Her hair grew in different colors- it would be blue, then become green, then orange, as if her hair were a quilt pattern. As for her clothing. . . I have not seen any other woman wear such clothing. First of all, she wore a shirt made out of an elastic material. Last time I'd seen it, it had said 'Independent,' but this time it read, 'It's cute when you think I'm listening.' I do not understand why she would wear these sayings on her shirt, as this seems rather pointless, but never mind that. Her shirt was rather short, and ended just a little over her waist, showing her belly for all to see. She wore tight, tight pants that seemed to be made out of an uncomfortable material. How she would have fought in those pants, assuming she _could_ fight, I would never know. Draped almost messily over her shoulder, as if she did not want to wear it but felt she had to, was an old, green, tattered cloak, which looked as if its owner had unsuccessfully tried fixing up to appear newer._

"_What are you staring at?" The woman asked, though she did not sound angry. In fact, she sound rather delighted that I seemed to have been staring at her. "See something you like, honey?"_

"_No," I replied truthfully. "You called me in here."_

"_Oh, yeah!" The woman snapped her fingers. "Of course! I almost forgot!"_

Really. Sounds almost like you did forget._ But I kept my thoughts to myself._

"_There is a lady I would like you to dispose of. I do not know who she is, or what her name is, but I do know one thing- she murdered my dear Lundgren." She stomped her foot, a very unladylike thing to do, and balled her hands into fists. "MY Lundgren! MINE!! She didn't have any right at all to go killing him!"_

_At this point, I was sneakily looking around the room for possible exits. "Would you like me to research this Lundgren of yours? That appears to be necessary as you do not know the identity of his murderer."_

"_Yeah, yeah, of course you do," the woman scoffed, as if it had been something obvious. "By the way, have you seen Mint anywhere?"_

_I stiffened. I had seen him. Just this morning, he. . . well, never mind; the point was that this woman was _not_ to know where Mint was. "No." I must have said that too rudely, because it sounded cruel to my ears, but the woman did not seem to notice._

"_Oh, too bad," she sniffed, and appeared to be checking her hair. "Mint, he's so hot."_

"_Mmm. . . is that all you called me for, mistress?" I was more than happy to leave._

-----

Lucius had made it to the entrance of the dining room, and had been listening to Rade. That was what the whole thing was about? Capturing as many people as they could, to lure the caring Lady Lyndis into their headquarters where they would catch her off guard and kill her? Well. . . that did sound like a plan, and now that he thought about it, Lucius could fit some of the puzzle pieces he had found together. But a large part of the puzzle was still missing- why did they want Lyn dead anyway? And if they wanted to kill her, well. . . why hadn't they yet? The half-blood was still alive, though rather shocked.

He had been so busy thinking, that the idea caught him off guard, yet it was such an obvious idea that he scolded himself for not thinking of it before. Surely Lord Raven would have come as well? If not for Lucius, then certainly for Priscilla, who was the last blood-relative of the young hero! He reached a hand toward the door handle, but another smaller hand grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him. He turned around, and stared into the eyes of an angry-looking Page.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked coldly, and she would have looked frightening if it weren't for her young appearance and the tray of hot food balanced on her left palm. The apron tied around her mage-like clothing did not help in making her look as terrifying as she should have looked. Lucius held back a giggle.

"I do not recall Rade, nor any of the other idiot men around here, stating that you were to be set free for any reason. Either they've gotten more irresponsible and forgetful that they've even forgotten to tell me about a new plan formation, or. . ." Her head tilted a little down, and the young thief stared up at Lucius through her hair, sending an eerie feeling slithering down the blonde's spine. ". . . Or, you've somehow escaped from the prison. Which means," a cracking sound as she moved her fingers, "I will have the pleasure of killing you."

Lucius gulped, though he knew he shouldn't be afraid. _This is, after all, merely a young girl, a mage in training by the looks of the clothes she is wearing. She shouldn't be that fast yet, and her resistance couldn't be that great. . ._ Lucius whipped out his Aura and chanted a spell, aiming for her head. It was a very well aimed spell, and any other mage would have been hit.

Page hugged the ground when the spell came, the ran up to Lucius and made a small cut on his waist, before jumping in front of the door to prevent Lucius from entering. The food on her hand was still un-spilt. "Excuse me now. I would love to stay and play with you, but I have to go deliver this food to our welcome guests. We won't do with having your friends starve to death, now would we?" She pushed through the doors, sneakily locking them while her hand was still on the handle and near the keyhole.

Lucius stood by the door, and raised a fist to knock on it, but thought better of it. His friends, his lords and his lady, were in there. If they went to try to open the door, they might get killed. So the monk turned away from the door and tried to walk back, but walked into something. "Mmmm?!"

"Lucius!" Before the blonde had time to lift his head for a breath of air, a pair of very strong arms squeezed him around the waist, and he wasn't strong enough to break free.

"I looked everywhere for you, and it seems you were here the whole time. . . how foolish of me. Lucius. . ." The person finally let go, and Lucius gasped for air, though the gasp suddenly turned into a gasp of surprise.

"L- lord Raymond!"

Lucius could almost say that Raven was smiling. But the expression did not last too long, because it was quickly replaced by the stern responsible look again. "How did you get out? They must have held you captive in some way."

"Oh!" The monk did not know what to say. How would Raven react to an enemy's help? "I'll tell you later, okay?"

The response was a grunt, and Raven was completely back to his old self again. Lucius laughed politely.

-----

Page set the food down on the dining table. "Here, this was all I could carry without help. I'll be back with more." She kept her eyes away from her guests, though she couldn't tell herself why. "I'm sorry I took so long."

The person sitting in the chair closest to her looked up. "Oh, dear! Such a polite waitress you are! I would never have guessed that you were the moody sister of that young boy."

Page looked down, and realized why it would have been a good idea not to look at the guests. Purple eyes, purple hair, shaman uniform. . .

Kind, thoughtful smile. . .

He looked almost nothing like Quill. But, still, the young girl now felt terrible about wanting to hurt these people. She almost broke down into tears then, which was rare for her, but Rade saved her.

"Page. Be polite and serve the rest of the meal."

An order. She could do that.

-----

**Page**

"_Ahhh!"_

_I whirled around, and said a word I wasn't supposed to know. "Why, Quill!? Even if I take care of a big portion of the enemies, you still manage to get yourself into trouble!" But despite my complaining, I drove my short knife into the neck of the bandits giving my brother trouble, and I felt proud of myself. I could take care of my brother. See who was the stronger one now._

"_No! Not them!" Quill whipped out a Flux tome and clumsily read it out. The spell barely managed to stop another bandit that was about to attack me from behind. "I was talking about the ones behind you!"_

_Well, I hated looking foolish next to him. I had to say something to make myself feel better. "What are you, retarded? Why are you using that slow Flux tome? You can't even use it very well yet! You're just guessing around! Stop playing and fight how you usually fight!"_

_He frowned, but put the Flux tome away. "If her majesty commands," he said sarcastically. He pulled out a Thunder tome and marked another bandit that was about to attack me from behind. This time, his victim was very, very, cooked-in-Point's-oven-for-an-hour dead. And then some._

_I was looking foolish again. Of course, if I suggested a way to fight better, he would use it. Now I looked even more foolish than before. And, just to make things worse, he held his lit torch up. "That's the last of them. Now take what you can from them and let's find a place to stay."_

_A short search discovered a total of 2000 gold. Not too bad, for a small fight. We could stay at warm, comfortable inn and buy something warm and fresh to eat._

_While we headed to the nearest town, Quill muttered in my ear. "Hypocrite."_

"_What?" I shot a mild glare. He was unfazed._

"_You've spent too much time thieving. I understand that it is necessary to sustain our health, but practicing your Fire tome once in a while won't kill you." He shrugged. "I guess it's okay if you yell at me to practice my neutral magic, but it would be less hypocritical for you if you'd do so yourself." With that, he pulled out his Flux tome and started reading it. Studying. I swear, someday his brain will explode from trying to figure out how to manipulate ancient magic. I heard it was the hardest of the three types to master._

_Quill dodged a person passing by, not looking up from his tome even once. Then he dodged through and entire crowd without getting hit. I often envied this ability of his; that bookworm had somehow taught himself to read and steer. I myself bumped into a few people, of course, but I swear it was merely so that I could, er, _sample_ their money. With so many people around, we must have been nearing the next town._

_When we found a place that seemed comfortable and affordable, we rented a room for the night and wandered around the town looking for food. Suddenly, I bumped into a woman._

_Well, not really a woman, exactly. She looked more like she was around sixteen. She had an old, torn-looking green cloak draped around her frame. For some reason, I found that I could not steal her purse. It was almost as if she had a barrier up. Maybe she did. "Hey there, child. I knew you'd be here somewhere." I disliked being called 'child,' but kept my mouth shut. "I heard much about you."_

_What? How could she know _anything_ about me? I wasn't famous or wanted or anything like that. Just at that moment, Quill appeared. The slowpoke finally caught up with me. "Page! Don't walk so fast, you'll lose me and. . . who is that?" He sounded disgusted as he looked up at her face. "Ewww, she's wearing too much what-do-you-call-it, makeup. . ."_

_I raised an eyebrow. 'Ewww'? Quill never said anything as immature as 'ewww.' The books he read saw to that. Something odd was going on. But, I agreed with him, this woman/girl did appear to be abusing her makeup kit. But she didn't seem to think so._

_The woman/girl patted Quill on the head. "Wow, look at that hair, and those eyes! You're going to be soo hot when you grow up." She grabbed his thin wrist and dragged him with her as she started walking. "I'm going to recruit you for my small assassination army."_

"_What? Where do you think you're taking my brother?" I scolded myself later for sounding too concerned. The woman/girl turned around and sneered at me._

"_I just said, I'm going to recruit him for my assassination army. Duh." She paused, seeming to think about something hard. "And don't think you get to join. You don't look strong enough."_

_Oh, so! "Well, either you take me, or you leave my brother! You're not separating us because of your stupid assassination group!" In an instant, I was staring cross-eyed at the point of the lance pointed just millimeters from my nose. Just wonderful- the weapon I was bad against just happened to be the one the woman/girl used._

"_Listen, you" – she called me a bad name – "girl, you don't have a choice here. I don't give a shit whether he's your brother or not, okay? I want him for my assassination army, and he will be in it. If you argue, I will dispose of you."_

_She was very arrogant, I will give you that. My fingers closed around my daggers, and the lance seemed even more noticeable than ever._

Practicing your Fire tome once in a while won't kill you.

_If this woman/girl used lances, then I wouldn't have much problem defeating her with magic, right? As fast as I could, and in all modesty, was an impressive speed, I whipped out my Fire tome and chanted from it. Lucky me, I still remembered how to use it. Somewhat. The resulting fire spell scorched her cloak a little, and she looked surprised. But, almost as fast as I had, she withdrew her lance and took out a Nosferatu tome. I couldn't even hear her chant the spell, but I could feel my health drain away. What the heck? How can someone use physical weapons _and_ spells with equal skill? It was impossible!_

_The woman/girl looked smug, and she didn't notice the dark balls surrounding her until they hit her. She squeaked in pain, but didn't die like she should have. Instead, she turned around and grabbed a startled Quill. "You! Dare you use a Luna tome on me?"_

_Quill wiggled away. "I'm gonna keep using it until you let my sister come with me, you big meanie! And don't touch me, either!" He added when the woman/girl attempted to snatch him again._

_I was confused by his use of the immature word 'meanie,' but didn't dwell on it. I waited for her answer. If she refused, we would attack her and run away. Simple._

_A long wait. The sneer returned on her face. "Fine. If you're going to be rough about it like that. You've got a feisty enough a personality, anyway. I can send you to the front line to die."_

_It sounded unnerving. But we were safe; at least for now._

-----

He wiped a strand of sweaty purple hair as he ran down a familiar corridor. _Great, I'm running in circles now. If I were a prisoner, where would I be hidden?_ Erk knew that asking himself this wouldn't help him find anything, particularly Serra, any faster, but it made him feel more secure anyway. _Things might go a lot faster if I actually searched the rooms._ Why hadn't he thought of that sooner?

He entered the first room and turned it inside out. Nothing. The second and third room proved to be the same.

He opened the fourth door and started lifting rugs for trapdoors and opening closet doors. One of them was rather violent upon opening.

"YEEEEEEEEEE!!!! GET AWAY!!!"

Something hit the mage on the head and kicked him in the shins. It scrambled for the door, but Erk managed to grab onto something it was wearing to keep it from running away. It almost choked, and hastily tried to get rid of whatever it was, which gave Erk time to look at whom he had caught.

"Serra!"

"_What_, you fiend? I swear you have no respect for a lady like me! Choking me like that, rrrgh!" The cleric gave up on trying to untie her scarf, which Erk was holding on to, and used his shocked state as a chance to yank it out of his hands. "Good _bye!_" She ran out the room and slammed the door.

"Serra! Where are you going? Hey, come back!" _So she IS still mad at me. _Erk jumped to his feet and opened the door to catch a streak of purple silk disappearing down the hallway. He cursed loudly and made to follow.

-----

In another part of the castle, a similar scene had played out.

It wasn't as if Jaffar knew how small the space behind the mysterious-looking portrait was. Really. So it wasn't THAT evil to climb in. _Really._ So why did Nino scream and squeak and all that other stuff girls did when they were scared out of their minds?

"Nino. . . hush!" Jaffar tried to reach her mouth to shut her up, but she was so loud, he could still hear her even after her mouth looked effectively covered. Although, with this bad lighting, he couldn't really tell, but he was pretty sure. . .

He pulled her closer. "Nino," he hissed into her ear, "if you don't stop _crying_, we'll get caught. And they'll lock you up again."

Nino gave up screaming and squeaking (and whatever else girls did when they were SOoTM) in favor of blinking, more out of pure shock than because of what he had just told her. That was one of the longest sentences she had ever heard him say.

"I couldn't see you," she complained. "There wasn't enough light, and I thought it was an attacker. Or a molester. Or something." Jaffar would have kicked himself, if given the room. He was an assassin, with good eyesight, so if he could barely see in the dark space, then of course Nino wouldn't have been able to see anything! "And you can't blame me for the molester thing, there's barely enough room to play Thumb War in here!"

Slowly, Jaffar crawled out of the portrait hole (did I just say that? ;) and gently lifted Nino out of it after him. When she was safely on the ground, he picked her up and covered her with his cape. ". . . Now to escape. . ."

"Without getting caught?" Nino added questioningly.

Jaffar nodded. ". . . Basically. . ."

-----

"Do you remember which rooms were the ones that guy told us to use?" Legault asked his armored friend in his usual bored tone. Which, obviously, caused the usual twitch of the eye from Heath.

"Don't you find it likely that the _name tags_ on the doors sort of give it away?" the wyvern rider growled. "I thought thieves had an eye for these things."

"Oh! So you are correct, dearest." He thought about it. "He said we could use his room and. . ." he gestured to the man he was carrying. ". . . this assassin's room, right? So, the assassin said he was called Scourge. . ."

Heath rolled his eyes at Legault for taking up time thinking out loud and walked to the door that said _Scourge_. "If this was so obvious, why do you suppose he gave us the specific door?" he asked as he opened the door.

"Maybe he assumed we were dimwits." Legault pushed past Heath and walked into the room, dumping Scourge into the cream-colored bed. "Huh, we'll just drop him off here. I won't have to carry him anymore." He stretched out his aching arms as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on the desk first. "Hmm? Look, it's a letter."

Heath picked it up and read over it quickly. "He sounds like he really hated having to kidnap us. This letter is a complaint letter addressed to. . ." his eyes flickered to the top of the letter to remind himself. ". . . to someone addressed to as 'mistress.' What do you suppose this is all about?"

The letter was snatched out of his hands, folded, and tucked neatly in one of Legault's hidden pockets. "We'll ponder it later." Heath squeaked in an embarrassing way as he was dragged from the room. "For now, let's go find that other room."

"Why? We only need one room to hide, don't we?" Heath glanced nervously back at the room they had just left, courteously closing the door as he was dragged out. "Legault?"

"His name was Cylt, right?" Legault ignored all of his companion's speech as he pushed open the door labeled _Cylt_. "Hmm, it's nice. It's filled with odd objects, sure," a glance at the sword collection pinned in an obviously loving fashion to the wall, "but it will do." The hand not holding onto Heath's wrist found the key hanging on the wall and locked the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" Panic rose as the greenhead realized that he was locked in. Further panic, along with an unconscious blush, followed being put forcefully into the bed. "Legault?"

"Hmm. . ." the Hurricane paused to kick off his boots before he too jumped into the bed. ". . . do you suppose that Cylt person wants to sleep in his bed tonight?"

"Wha- of course he does!" Heath turned redder at the close contact with the thief. "Why do you think he wouldn't?" Though his mind, which was being dragged (kicking and screaming, mind you) back into the gutter, found the conclusion by itself.

"Why, innocent, darling Heath. . ." mentioned person noticed the speaker licking his lips (_Why am I noticing this??_), ". . . Don't you suppose it would be rather. . . _messy_. . . by tonight?"

The greenhead pretended not to know, though his heart was pounding faster and faster by the second. "N- no. . ."

A faked offended look. "Why, dearest, I'm _devastated!_ Surely you haven't yet forgotten. . . forgotten what you were going to _do_. . . back before we were set free from those horrible cells?"

_Crap. I _do_ remember._ "H- how do you know about that??"

The lips and tongue he had been watching were suddenly a lot closer, as their owner drew himself nearer to the observer. "Hmm, just how 'asleep' did you think I was?"

_Crap, crap, crap. I'm DEAD._ "Very?" Heath squeaked, as a last try at keeping the (admittingly, incredibly _sexy_) thief from getting even _closer_.

"Wrong." _Ding! Heath, sold at the cost of nothing, to Legault!_ Though, Heath grudgingly admitted, the taste isn't _that _bad. . . perhaps they sell candy of this flavor somewhere. . .

. . . That candy must be _very_ expensive. . .

-----

**Scourge**

_Seconds after he broke away, I slapped him. He put his hand to his bright red cheek, though he seemed more like he was savoring the pain. "Being slapped by you feels so much better than being slapped by anybody else. . ."_

_I could feel my blood rushing to my face. "W- warn me when you do these things next time, okay? Y- y- you scared the sins out of me. . ."_

"_What sins?" He would have said that jokingly, if it weren't for his embarrassed mood._

"_It's an expression. But really. . . why didn't you just _tell_ me. . .?" I crossed my arms angrily. "You know perfectly well I despise being taken advantage of."_

_He stared at his shoes. "They say actions speak louder than words."_

"_Please, Cylt," I sighed, wiping my mouth. ". . . could we. . . . . . discuss Mistress' current plans, instead of our. . . personal lives?" My face became hot again, and I could see the traces of red on my friend's face as well. "We could discuss that. . . certain topic. . . later, when we're _not_ under orders to ask witnesses about the battle tactics of our targets."_

_He thought, then skittered hurriedly to the restroom of our inn. "I need a few minutes."_

_Through the door of the restroom, I could hear mixtures of crying, laughing, and self-scolding. After several minutes, the myrmidon seemed to calm down, and the sounds of sniffs and running water suggested that he was probably washing his face. When he finally came out, his eyes were still pink and slightly swollen, but his expression looked serious again._

"_Alright." Cylt had been my source of information on the latest plans since I had joined this assassination army, though I still had no idea why we were doing it all. Possibly this 'Lady Lyndis' Mistress constantly fumed about was a tyrant? Perhaps she killed and stole with no good reason? I had discussed these questions often with Cylt, but he never seemed to know. Though, at one point, he noticed that Mistress had ranted something about Lady Lyndis murdering her own granduncle, so I suppose that was pretty bad._

"_Right now, all we know is that the murderer's name is Lady Lyndis, and that she is still alive somewhere." He sniffed again. "So, Mistress sent the two of us out to gather more information about her."_

"_I thought that was probably why. But why only two of us? Why not everyone else?"_

"_Mistress is a rather paranoid lady, I suppose," Cylt said in a way that clearly stated he had just as much clue as I did. "Then again, the looks she had been casting Mint lately, I am starting to think differently. . . you have noticed how differently Rade thinks of her lately, have you not?"_

_I shook my head. I wasn't really very observant when it came to these kind of things. Cylt laced his hands behind his head, leaning back on them. I never figured out why he liked doing that; perhaps I'd ask him later. "Well, it seems that Rade is starting to dislike Mistress. Very much."_

_This surprised me. Rade, disliking mistress? In the beginning, when this had all began, Rade had been the one most loyal to her. Why would he suddenly dislike her so much. . .? I asked Cylt this out loud, and he laughed at me, calling me silly._

"_You haven't noticed how kind Rade is to Mint, even when he's blowing his steam off on the rest of us? You haven't noticed how he sometimes looks at him that odd way, when he thinks nobody is watching? You really haven't noticed these things?" he laughed. . . no, more like giggled. Scary, I didn't think he knew how to giggle. "My, Scourge, you're even less observant than I thought."_

_I started laughing at myself. Well, how could I help it? Laughter was contagious. Even if, as I later discovered, the source of the laughing fit is forced._

-----

Okay, that's all there is for now. I will finish the next chapter with what everyone else is doing, and then go back to what the three lords or doing. They ARE kind of important. Hmmm. . . .

And, and, I guess I'll put up a vote thingamabob- which is everyone's favorite couple? The least favorite ones will get together sooner, to get them out of the way. Just so that you all won't be reading about a couple you don't like, or don't really care about, and are waiting for the other one to come out. . . that way, you won't still be reading the rest of the story with a couple you don't like! Right? Anyone who thinks this idea is stupid can say so.

Page raises a hand. "I think it's stupid."

You don't count.

"I still think it's stupid."

Well, go tell someone who cares.

"Fine then, I will." Page goes off somewhere, presumably to go tell someone who cares.

So. . . review? You can all kill me. Yeah. And, by the way, does ANYONE know what happened to Rianne? (sniff sniff cry cry sob) No, really, I'm worried about her. . . what with all the stuff that TFK keeps saying about the hurricanes of Florida, I'm getting VERY worried. . . any news of her would help. A review from her would be better still. I miss you, Rianne! And I miss Riaki! And Miseri! And everyone else who reads!


	12. I can take all the madness

Well, it turns out that the winning pairs in the voting are Raven/Lucius and Matthew/Guy, both tied with two votes, with Legault/Heath coming in second with a vote and a half, and Rath/Wil coming in third with one vote. So, every other couple here will pair off quickly and get it over with, and the couple favorites will take their time so you can either savor the sweetness or feel tormented by it. (evil grin)

In the beginning of this chapter, there is a lot of stuff about Rath's horse. Just a note, I know SQUAT about horses, and I have only ridden them like twice; at some fair when I was three years old, and during my trip through China, where I got to ride a Tibetan horse. So I'm sorry if the horse doesn't really work. I really need beta help for this. Riaki, are you still available?

-----

Chapter Twelve

-----

Rath walked quietly through the halls, his horse trotting silently behind him as if it too could sense the need for silence. For every little noise or creak he heard, he drew an arrow out of its quiver and fit it in his ready bow, paranoid to every last alert hair on his head, yet hesitant to shoot in case it was anyone he knew. His horse occasionally nudged him in the back, as if it were not used to not being ridden during battle, but a pat on the head from its master always eased it to calm back down.

At a certain hallway, Rath paused and stopped moving, and his hose stopped with him. The master and the beast stood, frozen, for what seemed like a long time, before an arrow was fitted into Rath's bow at the speed of sound. He pointed the arrow toward the general direction that he heard the breathing, and looked around. The light sound seemed to be coming from a suit of armor, and he loosened up. He was just being too paranoid, he told himself, and continued on his way. A suit of armor doesn't breathe.

Just a moment after he had assured himself of this, the suit of armor sneezed. Before his mind had time to figure out what had happened, Rath had redrawn the arrow, fitted it in the bow, and shot it. The arrow hit the space on the wall about a millimeter away from the head of the suit of armor, and he could hear a voice inside. "Oh, shoot," it swore. Then, as an afterthought, added, "Or don't shoot. Please don't shoot! I'll come back peacefully, just don't shoot!"

Rath's heart pumped two times faster. That voice was very, very familiar, and only one person in his recognition would be able to start a rant from two short, careless, almost meaningless words.

"Wil! What are you doing in there?"

The suit of armor twitched, then its hand moved up and lifted the visor up, revealing a face that indeed did belong to Wil. "R- Rath? It was you? Why did you shoot me? Oh, no, did I hide the wrong way? Ooh, I should have known that my allies wouldn't be able to know it was me, and I should have known that I would be in danger if I was unarmed, but what would be the point of being armed if it were someone like you mistaking me for an enemy? I wouldn't be able to attack my friends! Maybe that's why I didn't arm myself and all that, that would explain why- "

"Quiet, before you give me a headache," Rath grumbled, although his arms had grabbed the surprised and confused archer in a tight hug, betraying his mask of grumpiness.

-----

Mint 

_Laughing and smiling. I liked to laugh and smile because it made other people laugh and smile. I smiled even when I felt terrible, because it made other people feel better, and if other people feel better then I feel better. It is very complicated and repetitive, but that is the way my mind works most of the time._

_Rade is different. He changes the rules. Hardly every expressing emotion- I guess it is the curse of bearing the burden of a Fell Contract. Rade used to have such shadowed eyes, so much uncaring aura being emitted. . . I felt bad for him, believe it or not. The poor thing._

_How did I first meet him? It is odd, isn't it? That a bishop such as myself would know an assassin. Oddly, he had come to the temple to pray one day. He stood out like a sore thumb, being the darkness within the light, and everyone else in the temple drew away from him. He acted like he didn't care, just strode boldly yet quietly to the statue of St. Elimine. He drew out a pile of incense sticks from his cloak and lit three of them. Nobody had ever lit incense sticks before in our temple, so I didn't know what he was doing. Naturally, I panicked._

"_Excuse me, sir. . . what are you burning in the face of Her Grace?"_

_He looked up at me from where he was kneeling, and for moments he did not say a word._

"_. . ."_

_Embarrassed, I rephrased my question. "Erm, I mean, I have never seen incense sticks burnt at our temple, I am not sure what you are trying to do. . ."_

_He thought for several more moments before reaching a hand up and pulling me down, but gently. . . so gently. . . "Come," he had said, handing me one of the sticks. "The spirits enjoy the smell of incense. I am burning them for respect." Then he leaned closer to me, so that he was crouching behind me, and put the other two sticks in my hands. Then he closed my hands for me, wrapping his hands around mine, and he taught me to pray with incense, to show the spirits that they were appreciated._

_Later, I followed him out of the temple. I was a little afraid that he would be annoyed with me, because people like him were not known for tolerance, but when he heard my footsteps he stopped and waited patiently for me to catch up. I clutched my favorite staves- Heal and Physic. "Sir, I was wondering. . . what is an assassin like you praying for at our temple?"_

"_. . . You are a curious one." He put a hand in my hair. ". . . you look like you're faithful, too."_

_I nodded. "Yes. . . I am faithful to those I care for."_

"_Do you care for me, the lowly assassin?" He looked toward the ground, seeming suddenly ashamed of his own uniform. "I. . . knew your kind respected everyone, but I heard that you looked down on killers like me. . ."_

_My smile faltered a little. "Many people at our temple despise assassins, that is true, but I do not think less of you at all." I bowed at him politely. "I treat all of St. Elimine's children with equal respect."_

_We stood there staring at each other for the longest time, and suddenly I blurted it out. "Um, sir. . . may I have your name?"_

-----

"His name is Rade," smiled Cylt gently to a terrified-looking Wil and an angry and mistrust-looking Rath. "As for the me, my name is Cylt. I do happen to know that Wil here is already acquainted with me."

"Why are you telling us this?" asked Wil. Just after Rath had let him go, embarrassed and apologizing, the myrmidon had come in and explained to them the situation, and given them names to most of the people in the castle.

At the archer's question, Cylt's head drooped down to study his shoes. "Well, I. . . I want to be as much of a help to you as I can. I want to help you escape." Peeking up at the two bow-wielding warriors through dark strands of hair, the myrmidon continued. "It's. . . it's the least I can do. I apologize for my earlier behavior, I suppose I got carried away. . ."

Blinking, he suddenly seemed to realize that his voice was becoming softer, so he snapped his head back up. "So! As I was saying. . . there is also one more person here, but I don't know much about her. . . the only people who have seen her are Rade and Mint, if I remember correctly. We know her only as 'Mistress,' and anything that she needs to tell us she does so through Rade." Cylt sighed at his own uselessness. "As I do not know anything about her, down to whether she can actually fight or not, I will just pray that you will not meet her. Thankfully, chances of even seeing her are unlikely, as she never leaves her part of the Fort."

At this point, Cylt had taken out a piece of paper and had placed it on the floor between the two other men and himself. "Here is a map of our Fort." Flipping a quill out of his sleeve, he scratched on the paper, but nothing happened.

"Darn, must be out of ink again. . ."

Without hesitation, he stabbed the quill point into his own arm and proceeded to write on the map in blood, earning funny looks from both Wil and Rath.

"Okay, as of now this should be Mistress's location. . ." while Cylt was in the middle of drawing a bloody 'X' in a room in a part of the Fort that hadn't been explored yet, Wil sneezed.

-----

"Serra! Stop it! If it helps any, I'm sorry."

If Erk's apologies helped calm down the pink-haired healer any, it didn't show. She continued running hall after hall after hall, turning whenever she could to try to lose her pursuer. But Erk was determined, and continued running as fast as he could. Which, fortunately for the magic-user, was faster than Serra.

Eventually she had to sit down, exhausted and out of breath, and Erk grabbed onto her arm before she fell. "What has gotten into you?" he demanded, showing a tad more concern then he had meant. "You're not _usually_ this evasive! Even when you were angry, you always came back ready to order people around as if nothing had bothered you at all!"

Serra weakly jerked her arm from his grasp with her remaining strength. "And how would _you_ know, you jerk?"

Erk sighed. "Serra, of course I would know. I've been escorting all over Elibe for a year now. How wouldn't I know?"

Serra shot him a blank look, all the anger evaporating into confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Erk stopped moving, becoming confused as well. "What do you mean, what am I talking about?"

"You know, about the escorting me around thing. I don't know you."

-----

Mint was hidden inside another painting hole that Page had dug in, surveying the drama below from a near-ceiling position. Varin gave him a Look. "Why did you heal Lady Lyndis? Rade was only seconds- no, milliseconds away- from accomplishing our goal, and you stopped him! Why?"

Mint started sweating, though he tried hard to appear unfazed. "I think this was the Physic staff that someone tampered with earlier." He held up the said staff up to the light, staring intently at its discolored aura. "Earlier, while I was attempting to heal up that pink-haired healer, I believe it caused her a tiny slip of memory." He looked over at Varin with a sad look on his face. "Now she's forgotten the person she cares about the most."

Varin's shocked expression only stayed for an almost non-existent amount of time before he recovered himself. "What does that have to do with why you befouled our mission?"

"Plenty," Mint replied. "Later, as I was attempting to secretly assist Quill in regaining his memory, I believe this staff conjured up a giant spider instead, causing him to fight with his dark energy and lose even more of his already diminishing memory. Now he's lost somewhere, and even his twin sister Page, who tails him all the time, doesn't know where he is!" Mint tried not to move his arms around too much while he was holding the berserk-ed staff, in case it did something else terrible, but was failing. "A slight movement earlier? All of a sudden, Point's leg goes numb and he is too busy trying to return it to normal that he forgot to feed our guests! And now, it's even stopped our mission; don't you see what I'm trying to say here? I wasn't me, it was this staff!"

Varin still did not seem to believe what Mint was telling him. "Mint, right now you're telling me you've got an evil Physic staff. Do you know how insane that sounds?"

"It's _not _insane!" Mint fumed, and Varin reeled back; Mint was a very patient person, and it was rare to see him get mad. Ever. He was waving the staff furiously around now, forgetting its dangerous properties. "I just need to find a way to fix it before something else- "

He was interrupted by a huge eruption of almost blinding light from the staff; suddenly, Peti (Varin's black bird) squawked loudly and flew out of the painting they were hiding in. Flying in confused circles, it fluttered crazily around, dropping feathers and attracting a lot of attention to the guests below.

Mint sighed and glared at his wretched staff; Varin slapped himself in the face. "Peti. . ."

-----

The bird startled Rade, but he thought fast and changed tactics at the speed of light. "_Yo'e a'i no'ah!_" He hissed, using the code language that was prepared just in case this happened. So as the guests were too busy staring at him like he'd suddenly gone mad, the kidnapper team understood the message: _In sudden risk do the siblings attack!_

Suddenly, Page appeared seemingly out of nowhere, though the swinging kitchen doors gave away her previous location, and Point came out from another door. Both started attacking as many guests as they could in a short amount of time, but they were hideously outnumbered. Of course, Rade was helping, but he was now surrounded by the Hector, Lyn, and Eliwood and was not having an easy time.

"Stupid Quill! Where the heck are you when we need you!" Page yelled angrily, as she tried as hard as she could to stab a surprisingly evasive Canas. From behind her, Pent shot an Elfire spell and caused considerable damage. The pendant around her head fell off.

-----

At some other point in the castle, Matthew was running down one of many hallways, getting more annoyed then ever because he had yet to meet any sign of familiar life, when he spotted the same purple-haired boy that Guy had run into earlier. Groaning, he ran up to him. ". . . You there. Boy."

The boy turned around. He wore a huge smile on his face. "Can I help y-"

The smile faded, and he suddenly flinched. Matthew raised an eyebrow, and was about to ask the kid what his problem was when the boy's eyes glazed over. "My sister! They've hurt my sister! Where is her pendant?"

Matthew stared. _What a crackpot._ ". . . I'll ask someone else then. . ." He started to leave, but the boy stopped him.

"Wait, if you're looking for people, I saw this petite-sized man come by earlier. He looked sort of weird; green hair and a braid. . . Do you know him?"

Matthew froze. ". . . What did you say? Where did he go!"

Blinking, the boy took this to mean that this taller man was familiar with Green-Braid. "I directed him to the fountain room. I can't remember why he wanted to go there, though. . ." He pointed out the directions to Matthew.

". . . Thanks, you've been the only help I've had so far. . ." Matthew dashed off to the room, ignoring the boy's yell of "you're welcome!" and reached the door, panting.

He tried the doorknob, but it was locked. _That's odd, why would it be locked?_ He took out one of this lockpicks and easily picked the lock. He slammed the door open, his heart pounding in his ears, and almost yelled. "Guy? Guy? Are you here?"

A large splashing sound came from the huge fountain in the middle of the room; then, a croak. When Matthew walked closer to the fountain, a familiar head poked out from behind the large statue in the middle of the fountain, bright red. "M-M-Matthew. . .!"

Matthew chose to ignore the shock and embarrassment that was layered in Guy's voice. "Guy! I looked everywhere for you, what are you doing in a locked room? I had to ask directions to find you and. . . Guy? _GUY?_"

The poor swordmaster had pitched over, blood spurting from his nose, and Matthew realized, with great embarrassment, why the doors were locked. Frantically, he searched the room for a large piece of cloth and picked up the large towel on the floor, trying as modestly as he could not to look near the fountain.

-----

As Scourge's sleepy mind came back to the living realm, he felt a hand on his throat. He was wondering why there was a hand on his throat when the hand started applying pressure, and he started coughing from where the pressure was, although not choking or hurting him, tickling his windpipe. The hand withdrew immediately, and a whispered apology came shortly afterwards.

Scourge opened his eyes, then shut them again from the sudden light. A negative of a picture was burned into his eyelids, and he translated it. ". . . Cylt. . .?" He croaked, his eyes still squinted shut.

"Sorry about that, I'll shut the windows." The assassin could see the red of his eyelids turn blacker, and he cautiously opened them again. It was much darker, and therefore much easier for his eyes to focus. Cylt was kneeling over him, a concerned look on his face. "Did the vulnerary help?"

Scourge smelled the herb, and a certain medical freshness was burning from his stomach and throat. "That's what you were doing? Applying vulnerary?"

"For your upset stomach," Cylt explained. "And to clean up the bile in your throat. I'm so used to suffocating people, I pressed on all the wrong parts. I'm sorry."

Scourge sat up from what turned out to be his bed, and looked around. "Did you bring me up here?"

His myrmidon friend twitched softly, but he noticed. "No? Then who could have brought me here?"

"Two of the prisoners that I set free, whom are now soiling my bed, from the sounds of it," Cylt grumbled moodily.

Scourge ignored the second half of the sentence. Unneeded information. "You. . . set them free. . .?"

A blush. "W-well, I figured th- that you would've done it sooner or l-later, so I just. . . saved you the bother."

"A sadistic torturer like YOU saved the prisoners?" Scourge repeated, a tint of disbelief and awe in his voice.

"D- Don't get all worked up over it! I only did it f- f- " The myrmidon suddenly seemed to have trouble talking. "F- for you."

Disbelief. Utter disbelief. "And here I thought you only went after me because my being found unconscious and bleeding on a beach turned you on." Cylt whined. "Well, are they okay? What are the prisoners doing right now?"

His friend sobered again. "I told you already, the two that brought you up here are- "

"I don't want you to repeat what _those two _are doing, I want to know what the _other ones_ are doing," Scourge interrupted quickly.

Cylt shrugged. "I told them various places they could effectively hide. I didn't follow any of them, so I don't know where they are or what they're doing, but I heard that a group from our guests have set out to go find the prisoners, so I think they'll be okay. I met two earlier, in the West Wing. They have a labeled map now, so they know the places to go, and if they run across army-mates they can help out."

"Thank Elimine." Scourge sighed in relief. Then his face flashed with determination. "Come on, Cylt. We have to stop this."

Cylt blinked. "What? How?"

The pacifist assassin walked over to his desk and picked up a half-finished letter off of it. "Mistress has been ignoring my letters of complaint. I think it's about time I took it in my own hands to stop her." Walking over to the foot of his bed, Scourge opened a trunk and started taking out knife sets.

"Scourge, but- "

"I'll die trying if I have to," Scourge added, shooting Cylt a sad look. It was obvious that he thought his friend disagreed with him.

"No, I was going to say- "

"Don't try to stop me!" He raised a dagger. "I will be willing to hurt a masochist, Cylt."

Cylt stared at the blade for a second, considering its inviting edge, but shook his head to clear it. "No, you're misunderstanding me, Scourge! Of course I'll help you! It's just. . ." He cocked his head to one side. "Do you even know how to find Mistress? Do you even know how to get into her room?"

Scourge flushed. "Um. . . well, not really."

"My exact point. Let's go ask around first."

-----

Jaffar and Nino bumped into Raven and Lucius outside the dining room door. Lucius looked glad to see that Nino had been saved quickly, and Nino looked equally relieved. Jaffar got right down to business.

"Why are you just standing outside? Shouldn't we go back in?"

Raven shot Jaffar a short sideways glace before turning his eyes to the door. "We were afraid that a fight would break loose if we reentered the dining room. So we're keeping watch."

Nino pressed her ear against the door. "Sounds like there's already a huge fight in there if you ask me."

Raven looked down at the little girl, then looked to Lucius. The monk seemed to agree with the little girl. "I can hear metal on metal, and there are a lot of panicked yells. . . magic aura is heavy everywhere."

Enraged with himself for having been useless for so long, Raven growled and pushed the door open, sword drawn. Lucius trailed behind him, and although Raven shot a concerned and worried look over to his defense-less but resistance-laden angel, he made no move to stop him and ran to aid Eliwood, closely followed by Lucius.

Jaffar ran in as well, but kept Nino hidden in his cloak. "There are many of us and only three enemies," he explained to a confused Nino as he climbed up the wall. "You will be safer if we stay out of the fight." He ran across a shattered Mona Lisa painting and, remembering that Nino had been hiding behind a portrait, opened up the painting like a door to reveal a secret passageway. He crawled inside and shut the 'door', peering at the battle below through the tears in the painting.

The assassin noticed a black bird fly to a painting across the room and peck beside it several times. As he squinted, he could see a hand come out of the painting, and the bird jumped on it. He raised an eyebrow.

Interesting.

-----

I can't come up with anything more. I'm seriously starting to think that nothing's happening in this story, but I'm honored that people still think it's good enough for reading. I will have to blush and tell Baby Lupe to _please don't beg, you've gotten your point across._ And, well, to the readers who thought the characters were being OOC, thank you for telling me, and I will try to make them a lot more in character.

If. . . if, by some odd reason, Rianne is reading this, I want to give a heads-up beforehand: I'm going to use you near the end of the story. If you have any objections to this, email me and beat the living crap out of me so that I know you care, and I won't write you in. Okay? And to people who are more likely to read this. . . R Amythest, a.k.a. Riaki, I will probably use you too, and I'll probably use Miseri. So, same with you two, if you have objections (or recommendations; MODIIIIROOOO) please tell me.

For a cheap plug, (blush) I got a DeviantArt account over the 7 months that I haven't updated this story. I'll add the url to my bio eventually (after I've been reminded a million times maybe), but my screen name there is also Scarabsi so you shouldn't have trouble getting to it if you know how DeviantArt urls work.

With many thanks to Everyone. I'll too tired out from writing to write down all your names, sorry. . .

Page whacks me on the head. "Stupid idiot."

Ha, ha. . . review. I hope. Please forgive me.


End file.
